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Brandeis University 



In Honor of 



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Jekny Lis'd in the Chabacter of 'Maria' in 

La Figlia del Reggimento .... To face page 25 

Jenny Lind in the Character of ' Alice ' in Roberto 

ilDiavolo P<^9e 72 

Jenny Lind in the Character of ' Amina' in La Son - 

nambula .....••• « y** 

Jenny Lind in the Character of ' Norma ' . . ,, 198 

Medal to commemorate Jenny Lind's Appearances 

IN Stockholm 1847-8 .... To face page 403 

Jenny Lind's Last Signature ... „ page 405 

Mademoiselle Lind, from a Daguerrotype by Kol- 

BURN, August 1850 To face page 411 





Mr. Lumley's Liberality — The Kaulbachs — Mendelssohn objects to the 
Italian plan — The Birch-Pfeiffer libretto — Concerts particuliers 

page 3 


"Susanna" in Figaro — Society at the Kaulbachs— i?e«necJe Fuchs — Stutt- 
gart — German idiomatic difficulties — Letter to Judge Munthe on 
London engagement — Carlsruhe — Heidelberg — A Nuremberg medal — 
Birthplace of the Fugger family — Haydn's Creation at Munich — The 
beginning of the Sacred Concerts .... page 1-i 



Operas — Marie, die Tochter des Regiments — Portrait — The Wiener Zeitung 
— The Schumanns — Madame Schumann's Diary — Court Concerts — 
Wilhelmina Neruda — Solicitude of Mendelssohn about the Bunn 
Contract — Joachim ....... pcige 23 



Trio for voice and two flutes in Vielka — The Wiener Zeitung — Fraulein 
Auguste von Jaeger's reminiscences — Radnitzky's medal — Imperial 
KammersJingerin— Court Concerts — Nicolai — List of Viennese per- 
formances ........ page 32 



The Schumanns— Viardot Garcia— Mr. Bunn adheres to the Contract — 
Terror of Jenny Lind — Reassurances of Mendelssohn and Lewin — 
Counsel's opinion — Jenny Lind's offer to Mr. Bunn — Last song at 
Vienna ^age 39 






The " Vieille Garde" of the Opera— Mr. Lumley in the field— Lablache — 
" Fops' Alley " — Alboni's first appearance — The Opera of the Nobility 
— Signora Strada — Mr. Lumley's only hope — Lablaclie's estimate of 
Jenny Lftid — Mr. Lumley's jom-ney .... pcige 53 



Elijah at Exeter Hall conducted by Mendelssohn — Mendelssohn's Visit 
to Mrs. Grote — Watching for Jenny Lind — Arrival — Appearance in 
Mrs. Grote's Box at Her Majesty's Theatre — Jenny Lind at Mrs. 
Grote's — Mendelssohn invites her to sing — Jenny Lind's nervousness 
— Second essay — Still diffident about public appearance — Mrs. Grote's 
home-thrust — Jenny Lind convinced — Appoints rehearsal and chooses 
" Alice " in Boherto — The Lord Chamberlain stops the way — He is 
appeased ........ ■page 61 



Public excitement — Crowded house — Entrance of Alice — Cadenza in the 
First Act — The Terzetto and Mme. Goldschmidt's interpretation of 
it — Self-effacement — A true artist — The London Press . page 67 



Seclusion — A household word — A Broadside — Albert Smith's sketches — 
Jenny Lind's accounts of her London debut and description of her 
home — Her Italian successful — Mr. Bunn's position — Loving greeting 
to the Imperial city — Jenny Lind's large heart — Visiting the sick — 
Mr. Lumley saved ....... page 79 



Royal attentions — The Duke of Wellington — A brilliant company — 
Jenny Lind escapes — Fatigue of rehearsals — The new Amina — Balfe 
as conductor — Ah I non credea — A stage illusion — Jenny Lind's 
thoroughness — Balfe's tribute — The Times' critique — Lablache's com- 
ment — A nameless charm ..... page 92 




History of the work — Its Popularity in Paris — Donizetti's strongest point 
— New departure in La Fiylia — Overture — Inspired by Jenny Lind — 
Vocalisation — A chain of shakes — Dramatic declamation — Ciascun lo 
dice — Finale — The portamento — Critique upon the singing lesson — 
Listening artists^The i^riestess of natui'e . . . page 102 


THE queen's state VISIT TO THE OPERA. 

Norma — Casta Diva — General attitude of the press — A new reading — The 
Athenxum — Tlie Musical World — Opposing verdicts . X"^9^ ^^^ 



The libretto an obstacle — Mdlle Lind's anxiety — The manager's quest — 
Summary of scenario — Romani undertakes libretto — Scribe also — 
Mendelssohn dissatisfied with Scribe's poem — Mendelssohn and Loreley 
— La Tempesta completed by Scribe and Halevy . page 12i 



Verdi — Mdlle. Lind as " Amalia" — Plot of the play— Lablache as "Mas- 
similiauo" — An early judgment on Verdi — " Incapable of melody" — 
Gardoni furore in Act II. ..... I>age 133 



Versatility of Mdlle. Lind's genius — Mozart's music — " Susanna " — The 
comedy of Beaumarchais — Decline of Mozartian tradition — The appog- 
giatura of the eighteenth century — Michael Kelly, a pupil of Mozart 
— Rigorous exactitude of Mdlle. Lind — Analysis of the recitativo secco 
— An electrical effect ...... pcge 142 



Royal concerts — Swedish songs — Lablache " wie ein Vater " — King Leopold 
— Where the English heart was won — Au inestimable privilege 

page 151 




The summer of 1847 — Burnlmm Beeches — Horse exercise — Wimbledon 
Park— Mr. Lumley's fete at Putney — Tea and supper at Clairville — 
Jenny Lind entertaining — Moods — The provinces on the qui vive — 
English tour concluded — Mrs. Grote's general account of Scotch tour 
—Strong company pa^l^ 156 



Invitation to the Bishop's Palace — Arrival described by Mrs. Stanley — 
Impressions — General excitement — A lofty destiny — Provincial re- 
viewers — Choristers' privileges— A. P. Stanley interested — Departure 

page 162 


AT NORWICH (continued^. 

Letter from A. P. Stanley— An independent witness — The farewell 
visit to Queen Adelaide — On board the packet — A last adieu — List of 
English performances (first season) .... page 170 




Farewell at the Opera House — At Sans Souci — Royal Kammersangerin — 
The King's letter — Hamburg — Stockholm — Performances at Berlin 

page 181 

JgO l^LLCl -JJ.ClXi±UUlg,- 



Immersed in business — Love of England — Philanthropic plans — Voice in 
full splendour — Operatic performances — Concerts — Norma her last 
Swedish performance on the stage— The Bunn verdict — Home — 
Sympathy between Jenny Lind and Mendelssohn — His death — Fimd 
for the Theatre School — Engagement to Herr Julius Giinther — " Hem- 
liingtan " — The steamer Gauthiod— Retrospect . . • page 191 




Lucia di Lammermoor — Clrtirville — Social and artistic life in London — 
The fourth of Maj' — La Sonnambula — The Queen and " the Duke" 
— Chopin at the O^iera — Chopin's Matinees — Jenny Lind's enthusiasm 
for Chopin's works — The Eecuil de Mazoiirkas — A " Jenny Lind 
crush" — The Queen — First appearance of Jenny Lind as "Lucia" — • 
Analysis and critique — Donizetti as a musician — Thalberg ^^af/e 207 



Lahlache and Jenny Lind in L'EIisir d'Amore — Success of Jenny Lind in 
I Puritani — Qui la voce — The Cadenza — Critique — Her Majesty and 
the Prince Consort constant auditors — Last performance V'^g^ 217 



Retirement at Clairville — Trusted friends — Herr Berg and family — Mr. 
and Mrs. S. C. Hall — Mr. Otto Goldschmidt plays at the Concert 
for the Brompton Hospital — Mdlle. Lind's copy of programme — Her 
visit to the hospital — The Jenny Lind gallery — Memorial salver 
— Panegyric by the Rt. Hon. B. Disraeli — " Divine sounds and still 
diviner deeds " — A long Une of noble deeds inaugurated page 224 



Letter to Frau von Kaulbach — " In memory of Mendelssohn " — The tournee 
— A queenly progress — Arrangement of provincial programmes — 
Benefit concert for her Orchestra — Soiree to the band — Address and 
healths proposed by Jenny Lind — Return to London . page 234 



A worthy monument to Mendelssohn^The Soprano part of Elijah written 
for Jenny Lind's voice — Erroneous statement about the cast for the 
Oratorio at Vienna — Jenny Lind superintends rehearsals — Performance 
"complete and splendid " — The Mendelssohn Scholarships — Mr. Arthur 
S. Sullivan, the first scholar — Mme. Goldschmidt's continued interest 
in the foundation ....... page 241 


• CHAPTER Vlir. 


Concerts at Manchester — Birminglaam — Yule-Tide witla the Schwabes — 
" Ich werde singen " — Liverpool — Second visit to Norwich — Again the 
guest of the Bishop — The concerts — Mr. Benedict as conductor — Miss 
Dolby — The Jenny Lind Infirmary for Sick Children — Mrs. Stanley's 
letters — An enterprising manufacturer — Froken Josephine Ahmans- 
son — Jenny Lind's strong memory .... jpage 251 



Concert for Balfe's benefit — Worcester Royal Infirmary— £10,000 for 
Charity — An interesting incident — The Creation at Exeter Hall — 
Dramatic art — Diverse media required — The Oratorio a dramatic 
creation — The first true Oratorio — Epic form of Messiah and Israel 
— Dramatic instinct in Jenny Lind — Glory culminates in Oratorio 
— The Creation at Exeter Hall — Exhaustive critique — Liberality of 
Jenny Lind page 262 



Mrs. Grote's Note Book — Doubts and perplexities — Mme. Alboni — La 
Contessa de' Rossi — The grand classical concerts — A mistake — Repara- 
tion — General emotion — Six performances — Her Majesty and the Prince 
Consort — " For the last time " — A delicate memorial— List of English 
performances— 1848 and 1849 pa^e 275 



A soprano drammatico—Comi>ass — The various registers — Art of blending 
— Signor Garcia's success — Veiled tone of middle notes — The FJJ— The 
pianissimo — The natural voice — Diligent practice — Voice not 
naturally flexible — The reward of labour — The shake— The messa di 
voce — Articulation — Incessant practice — A crux — Two interesting 
letters — Singing as a beneficial exercise for the chest — Summary of 
eleven years' operatic work . . . . . • pu'je 294 




Home of the heart — Of the artistic spirit — Of her adoption — The Grotes — 
Mr. Edward Lewin — The Bishop of Norwich and Mrs. Stanley — ]\Iary 
and Arthur Penrhyn Stanley- — Jenny Lind's smile — A Swedish Bible 
and Swedish texts — Mrs. Stanley's report to her sister — Mme. Schwabe 
— Baroness and Miss French ..... ^Mge 306 



A dramatic genius — The moment of recoil — Reasons — Mrs. Grote's views 
— Author's views — Tired — The hope of tranquillity — Love of home — 
Homeless — Enthusiasm at Vienna — Scheme for endowment of the 
Theatre School — Second London season — A crisis — Engagement to 
Herr Giinther broken — A proposal — Clashing standpoints — Ruia 
awaits old friends — A pledge redeemed — Release — Tired — To Paris 
and Mrs. Grote ....... page 323 

CHAPTER 11. . 


Tales of singing birds — A Singing Lesson — Last song in the Vestale— 
Death of Catalan! — Rest enjoined — A visit to Mme. Mendelssohn — A 
grape cure — America on the horizon — Mr. Goldschmidt's concert at 
Hamburg — To Berlin — Royal invitation to Stockholm — King Oscar I. 

page 348 



An English letter from Jenny Lind — Russian plan negatived — American 
tour — Barnum — His liberality — Destination of the American earnings 
— Children's ball at Ltibeck — Mr..Goldschmi(lt — Hanover — The Queen 
of Hanover's recollections — Excitement at Gottingen — The Burschen- 
schaft Hannovera — Address at Brunswick — The queen of song — An 


evening at Berlin — Letter from Prof. Jiingken — Herr Eellstab's 
tribute — Lieder — Tlie last air of Susanna — Hamburg and Mme. 
Schumann's diary — Jenny Lind's aversion to " Society " — Enthusiasm 
for Schumann's songs — Last "notes" of Jenny Lind — "An den 
Sonnenschein " — Munificence of Jenny Lind — A bracelet from the 
Court of Berlin — Religious impressions of Jenny Lind . page 360 



The " Gauthiod " — The Dailt/ Allehanda — Froken von Stedingk's welcome 
— A Royal soiree — A bunch of forget-me-nots — Presentation of medals 
— Address — Shrinking of Jenny Lind from formal reception —Medals, 
a legacy to the National Museum, Stockholm — Singing in the St. 
Clara Kyrka — Benefactions — An autograph . . page 399 



Bremen— Schlangenbad — The Liveriaool Philharmonic — Two concerts — 
Jenny Lind at rehearsal — Messiah, first time in England — Grand 
excitement — Presentation of address — Her Swedish heart — The old 
folks at home — A hurried departure — A royal progress down the 
river — AVestward Ho ! — American triumphs — Oratorio a congenial field 
— Wedded life — Letter to parents — To Herr Munthe — To Baroness 
French— Milk soup and a wooden spoon— Mons. Benedict and Lind- 
blad's songs — Death of Fru Lind- -Retrospect of a devoted daughter — 
Word portrait by Mr. Parker Willis — Lady beggars — " Good night " 

page 406 

Last Words -.....- page 430 






IN :\ruxicH. 

In accordance with the pre-arranged plan confided to Madame 
Wichmann, in her letter of the 1st of August, 1846,* Mdlle. 
Lind proceeded from Darmstadt to Munich, where, between 
the 23rd of October, and the 8th of aSTovember, she sang 
twice, in La Sonnambula ; once, in Norma; once, in Der 
Freischutz; and twice, in La Figlia del Reggimcnto ; besides 
taking part, on the 1st of November, in a Concert given for 
the benefit of the Orchestra. 

Before leaving Frankfort, she had sent the following 
account of her probable movements to Madame Birch- 
Pfeiffer :— 

" Frankfort-on-the-Maine, Oct. 6, 1846. 

" To-day, I am twenty-six years old ! dear Mother Birch ! 
that is no joke ; and therefore it is that I feel such a desire 
to write to you to-day, and to thank you heartily for your 
last letter. 

" Your letters are so motherly, and filled with such good 
wishes, that I thought I heard you speaking, and saw your 
face quite clearly, exactly as it used to be in Berlin, when 
we were discussing anything particidar. So I thank you my 
good friend for this your sympathy. 

" I have never thought otherwise than to go to Vienna ; 
let what will happen, I shall sing in the Fclcllagcr, and all 

* See vol. i., page 424. 

B 2 

4 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. i. 

the more, because it has fallen through in London. This is 
really my wish — only, you yourself know what is to be 
expected from Pokorny, and whether one has not everything 
to fear there from a man who understands absolutely nothing 
about the matter. 

" The chief object, therefore, of my letter to Herr Meyer- 
beer, was only this — that he should set forth heforehand, and 
in writing, everything that he requires, and this he means 
to do, as I see from his letter ; for I should not have been 
acting rightly, if I had not informed him of my great 

*' I have also fears, undoubtedly, with regard to pecuniary 
matters ; only, neither for Herr Meyerbeer, nor for me, must 
there be anything to regret with respect to this, for I believe 
it would be very prejudicial to him. But, I will have 
everything made sure ; and, in any case, I have quite made 
up my mind not to stay one day after the performance of the 
Fiidlager, if things go on at the theatre as they did last 
spring. Moreover, apart from this, it is quite certain that I 
shall not stay there for six months. 

"And now, rest assured that I will, and must, keep my 
promise with the public ; and I shall be quit of this promise 
if I sing in Meyerbeer's Opera. With regard to the per- 
formance, the first thing is, that a good tenor should be 
engaged, and that the others should be passable. As for 
what concerns me, I shall make my arrangements in Vienna 
according to circumstances. If I am not pleased, I shall 
leave immediately after the Fddlagcr. 

" I am longing, above all measure, to get away from the 
stage. I think, now, that I shall be ready in six months. I 
cannot do otherwise. It is stronger than I ! 

" Lumley (the Director of the Italian Opera in London), 
what has he not oflered ! And what an amiable man he 
is ! He came here ; but I have sent him to Italy, to look 
for a singer there. But, he still hopes to get me ; and, if 
you should hear that I have really gone mad, I may then 
go to London. " Jenny. 


P.S. I hope that my 'guest performances' in Munich 
may be postponed ; for then we can go on later, to Vienna. 
And then I go first to Carlsruhe, and Stuttgard. In that case 
Herr Meyerbeer and I go to Vienna in December only' 

* From Frau von Hillern's collection.' 

," * 

1846.] IN MUNICH. 5 

In the meantime, Mdlle. Lind's visit to Munich was 
a great success. An introduction to the family of Professor 
Wilhelm von Kaulbach, the famous Bavarian painter, had 
resulted in an invitation to his house. No. 16^ in the 
Obergartenstrasse, where she was received, during the time 
of her visit, with warm hospitality ; treated, by the 
Professor, and his wife, as a beloved daughter; and made 
no less happy than she had been, in Berlin, at the house 
of Professor Wichmann. 

The benefit resulting from this arrangement was in- 
calculable. The time fixed for the visit to Munich was, in 
one respect, most unpropitious ; and, for a young Artist, un- 
supported by powerful moral protection, the visit itself might 
well have proved extremely unpleasant. It was impossible 
to sing at Court ; for the reigning spirit in the household of 
King Ludwig I. was the notorious Lola Montez, who was 
then at the climax of her ill-gotten power, and doing her 
liest to promote the fatal catastrophe which signalised the 
close of her career in Bavaria.* To have been brought into 
contact with such a person would have been intolerable ; and 
an invitation to a Court Concert would have rendered such 
contact inevitable. But, in the house of Professor Kaulbach, 
a guest was as safe from such an affront as a member of his 
own family. 

And so it happened, that the visit to Munich was a very 
happy, as well as a very successful one. But there were 
anxieties with regard to the Lumley Contract; and, espe- 
cially, with reference to the clause wliich provided for an 
increased Jwnorarium, if Mdlle. Lind felt it necessary to pass 
a month in Italy, for the purpose of studying the language. 

* For an account of the appearance of this once-famous adventuress — 
who was really an Irishwoman, or, at least, of Irish extraction — at Her 
Majesty's Theatre, in 1843, see ' Eeminiscences of the Opera,' by Benjamin 
Lumley. (London, 1864, pp. 77, 78.) 

6 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. i. 

She herself thought the plan desirable ; but, some of her 
most trusted friends were strongly opposed to it, on the 
ground that her acquaintance with the Italian language was 
already sufficiently intimate to render such a course quite 

A few days after her arrival in Munich, she wrote thus to 
Madame Wichmann on the subject : — ■ 

" Munich, October 27, 1846. 

" A thousand thanks, my dear Amalia, for your kindness 
in so soon and so carefully executing my commission.* 

" Now let me tell you that I am going to London ; and 
that Mendelssohn alone was able to induce me to do so. 
For you know what confidence I place in his advice ; and, 
besides that, things have really so shaped themselves, that I 
can clearly see that God Himself has so ordained it — and, 
against one's destiny, one can do nothing. 

" I shall not sing much longer in Germany. I remain in 
Vienna until about the middle of February ; and from thence 
I go, for five or six weeks, to Italy. Tell me, therefore, where 
Herrmann is living ; so that, if it be possible, we may meet.f 
I go to Florence, Siena, and Eome. Perhaps he may be in 
the neighbourhood. How I rejoice that the time is approach- 
ing ! These journeys round and round ! Oh, dear, good 
Amalia ! 

" I am living with the Kaulbachs ; and am thriving very 
well here. He is a dear, dear man ; and his wife is very 
lovable. I have lighted upon the best house in Munich, as I 
did in Berlin. 

" Besides this, it goes well with me, here, as everywhere. 
I am beginning to feel accustomed to this, though I cannot 
conceive what it is that satisfies the people. But that is 
God's doing. 

" Thine, for ever, 

" Jenny." % 

* The commission was, for rouge {Scliminke). It will be remembered 
that the Berlin critics suggested that Mdlle. Lind should use this more 
freely, on the stage. Perhaps sbe had at last consented to do so. 

t Professor and Musikdirector Herrmann Wichmann. . 

X From the Wichmann collection. 

1846.] IN MUNICH. 7 

From this it will be seen that McUle. Lind herself had 
decided upon the journey to Italy. Mendelssohn, however, 
did not approve of the plan ; and stated his objection to this, 
and some other clauses in the " Lumley Contract," in a 
letter, dated four days later than the above : — ' 

" Leipzig, October 31, 1846. 

" My dear FrAulein, 

" A thousand thanks for the trust you place in me. I 
have many times wished that I were wise and shrewd 
enough to be able to respond to this trust by sometliing 
better than good- will and the best wishes ; but, unfortunately, 
with regard to contracts, and all sorts of law-business, I am 
the stupidest creature that can possibly be. 

" Once, I thought I would show the contract to some 
one or other who could give me good advice, and tell me 
of all sorts of clauses that might possibly be added to 
it. In the end, however, this did not seem to me to be wise ; 
and I have preferred not showing your contract to any lawyers 
at all, and have taken no good advice at all upon it. For, I 
think, if you had wished for finesse of this kind, you would 
not have aj^plied to me. And, besides this, I think that you 
will be greeted, in England, musically and personally, with 
such love, and jubilation, and rapture, as has seldom fallen 
even to you; and I think that you will pass pleasant days 
there ; and that this is the chief purport of the contract, and 
the chief point of the whole business. 

" A few things, certainly, do not seem to me to be right ; 
but, as these are chief points in the contract, and as you 
have already signed, I do not see how anything can be 

" Finally, it seems to me that I could have nothing to do 
with modifying anything in the engagement, but only with 
adding; something that misfht occur to me. I should, indeed, 
have gladly seen that Lumley had contented himself with 
four months. (That he always spoke to me of four months, 
here, I well remember.) And that, instead of ten times in 
each month, you had insisted upon eight, at most. And, 
when I think of all this, and of your personal reputation in 
England at the present moment, it seems to me that some- 
thing ought also to be altered on the score of money, 

" But all this must, I believe, be looked upon as settled. 

8 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. i. 

now and for ever, since you have signed. And, from this 
moment, in my opinion, none of these points — which really 
are, and must remain, the chief points of the contract — can 
in any way be brought into question.* 

"Also, I am convinced that you will enjoy being in 
England ; and, if so, the twenty-one days in August might 
perhaps, in any case, have been conceded by you. And, 
more than that, you will sing ten times there with less exer- 
tion than eight times in Germany, where the journeys, the 
frequently inadequate support, and, above all, the hundred 
thousand shameful and shameless demands with which you 
are beset, tire you a great deal more than the singing itself — 
and all this you will, in great part, get rid of there. 

" Moreover, you will not, I think, find it very expensive 
there, since the two most costly items are provided for in the 
contract, and will not fall to your charge.f But, in any 
case, this, as I have already said, can no longer be brought 
into question, since it is already decided. 

" To set against this, there is one little thing that I do not 
like to give in to ; namely, when it says that ' Mdlle. Lind 
ne chantera dans aueun autre Theatre ou Concert 2^uhliqice ou 
particulier.' I find, ' nc chantera dans aucun Tlieatre cm 
Concert piiblique,' quite reasonable ; and this is, in fact, all 
the pleasanter for you ; but, as you very properly say in your 
letter, that 'particidicr ' may, in the end, be made to extend 
to the Queen. Above all, then, if it is to please me, great 
freedom and latitude must prevail with regard to that not 
' puUique' but ' particidicrj I should be most pleased if the two 
words, ' ou imrticulicr' were struck out altogether ; but that, 
I fear, would create difficulty, since you yourself have sanc- 
tioned them by your signature. Still, as the sense of them 
satisfies me so little, I should like, if the two words cannot be 
struck out, to add the following, at the end : — 

"77 est hien entcnd.u,qnc sous le tcrme, ' Concerts particuliers' 
(dans lesquels Mdlle. Lind a rcnoncee de chanter), ne sont 
compris que les Concerts qui sc donnent dans les apjyartements 
particuliers (comme cela sc fait souvent a Londres), ct oil Von 
cntre en yayant ; mais que 'pour toutcs les SoiEEES ou Societes 
particulieres ou Mdlle. Lind sera invitee, ct oil peksonne nepcut 

* For the points of importance really inserted in the contract, see vol. i., 
p. 437. 

t This remark evidently refers to the furnished house, and the carriage 
mentioned in the contract. 

1846.] IN MUNICH. 9 

cntrer en 'payant, die doit se reserver la liherte de faire tcl 
usage de son talent qui lui plaira. 

"Lastly, there is still something to which I object — that 
you should promise to spend the month during which you 
study the Italian language, in some Italian city. Could not 
this be done just as well in Vienna ? And would not the 
journey to Italy, and thence to England immediately after- 
wards, fatigue you more than a month's rest would strengthen 
and refresh you ? 

" You will, no doubt, come to an understanding with Mr. 
Lumley on these points, by word of mouth, as he told me he 
would meet you again in Vienna. If, however, you agree 
Asith my interpolations in French, I l^eg you to send them to 
him. I, on my part, "\yill do so, direct ; and I will also write 
to him once more about the libretto, and press him on the 

" This brings me back to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer ; and I 
assure you, that, for half a year past, I have put together her 
suspicious remarks, of all kinds, about the headaches ; and I 
foresaw, long ago, that she would find a thousand and one 
excuses for not writing a libretto at all. I fear it still, to-day ; 
but, notwithstanding this, I think that I dare not, and must 
not, countermand her. On the contrary, if she were really to 
write and send me a good libretto, why should I not set it to 
music ? I would do so with the greatest pleasure, whether 
Meyerbeer busied himself about it, or not. But I shall keep 
my eyes open, to see whether the book is good, or the con- 
trary ; and, if it is not good, I must tell her, somehow or 
other, that it will not do. And it is for this reason that I 
would rather wait and see what she does. Sometimes, how- 
ever, I tliink she ^\dll do nothing ; in which case the thing 
will come to an end of itself; for I cannot go on reminding 
and pressing her any longer, and, since the last letter, with 
the questions that I wrote to you about, I have heard 

"I should indeed be glad if I could soon, in accordance 
with my most hearty wish, write something dramatic — and 
especially, for you. Of what I can do in that way I will 
neglect nothing ; of that I assure you ; for I should at all 
times have gladly written dramatic music, but now more 
gladly than ever. And then I have a secret foreboding, 
which tells me that, if I do not attain to the composition of a 
fairly good Opera, noic, and /or you, I shall never accomplish 

10 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. i. 

it at all. But, on that point again, I entertain a regular 
Turkish fatalism — that, if it never happens, it never was to 
happen, even though I may have done all that I could to 
bring it about. And that, I am doing. So I shall be content 
if we meet again in this life, be it with, or without an Opera. 

" But enough of plans ! Enough of contracts ! I return 
the contract herewith — enough of England, Scotland, and 
Ireland ! 

" Yet, no ! there is still a claim that I should like to insert 
into the contract, only I shoidd like to insert it in German. 
I beg you, Eraulein Liud, to engage yourself with two friends * 
whom I have in London, to visit them sometimes, to sit quite 
still by the lady, who is very ill and can have very little 
more pleasure in this world, and now and then to sing her a 
song. In that way you will indeed give pleasure to her, and 
to me also. Is that a point of the contract which you have 
signed ? or rather, one which I may venture to add to it ? 

" And now, really enough of this ! We are in good health, 
and well in all essential matters ; but all sorts of little diffi- 
culties and sicknesses in the household, and other worries 
here and there, have prevented the last few weeks from being 

"Then, the heterogeneous mixture of half-French ways and 
manners that I see daily more and more gaining ground 
in my Fatherland makes me often so inwardly sorry, 
that it has long spoiled my good humour. It dives into 
every hole and corner; it creeps in one way into Life, in 
another into Art, and in yet another into Science ; yet no- 
where is it good. It is mimicked everywhere ; everywhere 
it is bound to disappear, as soon as one looks it fairly in 
the eyes ; and yet it always swaggers on again, in its 
borrowed mediocrity. I wish I could some day talk this 
over with you at length ; for you know the misery just as 
well as I do myself, and as everyone does, who has, at 
this moment, anything to do with tilings public in Germany. 
But, what is the use of talking about it ? and yet, ' Out of 
the abundance of the heart,' &c. 

" You are now in Munich, and meet the Swedish Princes 
— so people tell me — and see my old Hauser in his new 
office. You must greet him many times from me. I was 
also with him, once, in Munich, and very pleasant it was. 

* See Mendelssohn's letter to Mrs. Setb Thompson (nee Horsley), 
])p. 88-90, 

1846.] IN MUNICH. 11 

But that was a long wliile ago ! Are you now going to 
Vienna ? How long do you stay in ]\Iunicli ? And how 
long in Vienna, afterwards. What is Fraulein Luise doing ? 
Were you happy in Frankfort ? All these, and a thou- 
sand others, are questions to which I would gladly have 
your answer, when you have again time to write to me. 

" I often think, now, of your question on the Ehine 
steamboat, whether I should not like to leave Leipzig 
again ? and your wish that I should not stay in Leipzig 
for ever, &c. &c. You were quite right, and I well know 
what you meant ; and, in two or three years, at the utmost, 
I think I shall have done my duty here, after which I 
should scarcely stay any longer.* Perhaps I might prefer 
Berlin ; perhaps, the Ehine ; somewhere where it is very 
pretty, and where I could compose all day long, as much 
as I liked. But, really, you would have to sing to me, 

sometimes. ,, ,^ o • ^ 

Your iriend, 

" Felix Mexdelssohx Bartholdy." f 

Herr Hauser — who was now settled in Munich, as Director 
of the Conservatorium, and was by this time fully in 
Mdlle. Lind's confidence— was even more strongly opposed 
to the Italian journey than Mendelssohn, to whom he wrote, 
on the 29th of December, urging some very weighty argu- 
ments against the project, and begging his friend to do all 
in his power to prevent it from being put into execution. 
His opinion was, that Mdlle. Lind had already acquired 
sufficient familiarity with the Italian language to answer 
all necessary purposes ; that her pronunciation was per- 
fect enough to satisfy the severest critic ; and that, if 
any doubts arose, a few hints from Signor Lablache, in 
London, would more than suffice to set them at rest. In 
the end, these arguments prevailed ; and, after much hesita- 
tion, the project was finally abandoned. But, this decision 

* Mendelssohn died in the autumn of the next year. 

t This and other letters inserted in this work, addressed by Mendelssohn 
to Mdlle. Lind, are translated from the original in the possession of Mr. 

12 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. i. 

was not arrived at, until some time after the period of 
which we are now treating. 

Mr. Liimley does not seem to have interfered, in any way, 
with the settlement of the question, or even to have taken 
any particular interest in it, though the expedition would 
have cost him £800. 

But, with reference to another point, concerning which 
Mendelssohn had evidently written to him * direct,' as he had 
promised to do in his letter to Mdlle. Lind, he returned an 
explanatory reply, showing that the bearing of the clause 
relating to ' Concerts particuliers ' was far more important 
than his correspondent supposed. 

In a letter, dated, "Paris, Nov. 21, 1846," he writes:— 

" In my conversation, at Frankfort, I said to Mdlle. Lind, 
' Grisi has 80,000 francs. I will give you the same, or even 
more ; besides which, you will be able to get a large sum 
from the private concerts.' (I believe I mentioned 20,000 
francs). Mdlle. Lind replied, 'I should not accept these.' 
Observing her temperament and liigli feeling, and knowing 
the advantage this woidd be both to her and myself — for 
numerous reasons, besides the important ones of position, 
contact with other adverse artists not perhaps well disposed, 
time for study, &c. &c. — and that she would perhaps be more 
susceptible at the time to a little annoyance than to a great 
one — I immediately said, ' You are quite right ; and I shovild 
be so happy at this, that I would at once compensate you, by 
adding to your salary what I believe they would produce.' 

5 J> * 

It was evident, from this, that the question of singing at 
private concerts was no longer open to discussion ; though 
Mendelssohn did not understand that at the time he wrote to 
Mr. Lumley. But it was equally evident that the clause 
relating to this point must, for the protection of both parties 
to the contract, be so worded as to render misinterpretation 
impossible. Mr. Lumley, therefore, proposed to add the 
three following clauses to the original document : — 

* From the original letter, preserved in the * Green volunies.' 

1846.] IN MUNICH. 13 

" (1). The clause referred to does not extend to any concert 
given by the Queen. 

"(2). It does not extend to prevent Mdlle. Lind from 
singing gratuitously, should she think fit, in private parties of 
friends, or where she may be invited as one of the company, 
even though she should subsequently, or at the time, be pre- 
sented with a cadeau for so doing. 

" (3). Should any question arise as to the construction of 
the term ' private concerts ' (' Concerts j^artimliers '), and in 
what private concerts she can or cannot sing, it is left to 
Mdlle. Lind to decide, Mr. Lumley having the fullest reliance 
on her honourable feeling, in this, as in all other instances." * 

This explanatory gloss was, of course, perfectly satisfac- 
tory ; and, so far as the terms of the contract were concerned, 
there was little, if anything, that needed farther revision. 

But, the prospect was not altogether cloudless. There was 
still a shadow looming in the distance — a hideous shadow, 
that stretched across from England. 

* From the origioal letter, preserved in the ' Green vohimes.' 

14 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. en. ii. 

CHArTEE 1 1. 


In the meantime all went well, and more than well, at 


In the letter mentioned in the iDrevious chapter, Heir 
Hauser wrote to Mendelssohn : — 

" Munich, Dec. 29, 1846. 

"Dear old Friend, 

*. ^ vjs- ■* "^ 

" The maiden has snng here in such sort that it has 
been a true and heart-felt pleasure to listen to her. Among 
other parts she sang that of Susanna,* for the first time ; and 
one could not imagine anything more gracefully lovely. I 
wish you could have heard her sing the passage Komm du 
mcin Trauter, class ich Dicli kranze mit Eoscn.^ She looked 
like an angel, and nothing could possibly have been more 
beautiful ; "for me it was the most beautiful thing that I 
knew of. Moreover, the Munich people did not behave 
badly outside the house. The orchestra was the maddest. 
For instance, she never came to the theatre for rehearsal 
without being received with shouts and fanfares ! I tell you 
it was a jubilee such as I find it impossible to describe. So 
I prefer saying no more about it." | 

And as, in Madame Wichmann's salon in Berlin, Mdlle. 
Lind had enjoyed the society of so many of the leading spirits 
in the Prussian literary and artistic world, so here, at Professor 

* In Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro. 

f ' Ti vo lafronte incoronar di rose,'' in the original Italian; from the 
cavatina, * Deh vieni, non tardar/ in the fourth act. 
X From the Hauser collection. 

1846.] SOUTH GERMANY. 15 

Kaulbach's, she was brought into contact with the leading 
men of genius in Bavaria. AVith the Professor himself, who 
was then engaged in the xDreparation of his splendid edition 
of Goethe's Reinecke FucJis, she was on terms of straio-ht- 
forward and unreserved intercourse which shrinks from no 
expression of opinion, however widely it may differ from the 
views entertained by the interlocutor. Among others who 
were in the habit of meeting almost every evening at the 
Professor's house, and with whom she was, therefore, placed 
in constant intercourse on friendly and familiar terms, were 
Herr Franz Hauser himself. Director of the then newly-founded 
Miinchen Conservatoire fiir Musik ; Professor Lassaulx, who 
then filled the chair of philology at the University of Munich ; 
Herr Joseph von Gorres, Professor of History in the same 
University; Herr Guido von Gorres, his son, and Fraulein 
Marie von Gorres, his daughter ; Dr. Georg Phillips, Professor 
of Jurisprudence at the University; Fraulein Steingass, 
daughter of the Professor of Painting at Frankfort ; and Herr 
Gasser, a young sculptor who afterwards won a high reputa- 
tion in Vienna. 

In addition to these, though less constant visitors, were 
Dr. von Dessauer, an advocate, who had also invited Mdlle. 
Lind to make his house her home ; Herr Emil Liebert.; Herr 
Friedrich Beck ; and others who esteemed themselves only 
too happy if they could find an opportunity of doing her a 

And, apart from this literary and artistic circle, she found 
a hearty welcome in other classes of society. Prince 
Maximilian of Bavaria, the father of the present Empress of 
Austria, was her sincere friend ; and other magnates of 
highest rank received her with marked respect and attention. 
Her stay in the Bavarian capital M'as, therefore, in every 
way an interesting and agreeable one. 

The six performances at the theatre and the Concert for 

16 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. ii. 

the Orchestra were completed by the 8th of November,* and 
she then took leave of Munich for a time, to return again in 
the middle of December. 

Her next engagement was at Stuttgard, where between the 
11th and the 22nd of November she sang once in La 
Sonnamhula ; twice in Norma ; once in Lucia di Lammer- 
moor ; once in La Figlia del Reggimento ; at a Court Concert 
given by the King of Wurtemburg ; and also at a mixed 
entertainment, consisting of scenes from Lucia and some 
Swedish songs, for the benefit of the poor — for whom she thus 
earned fifteen hundred and fifty Khenish gulden, f 

On the day after her first performance at Stuttgard 
she wrote to her friend Madame von Kaulbach : — 

" Stuttgard, Nov. 12, 1846. 

"Deae good Madame Kaulbach, — 

" You were kind enough to wish for a few lines from 
me, and it gives me so much pleasure to send you these ' few 
lines ' thati sit down at once to write them. Perhaps you 
may not be able to read my handwriting, for, between our- 
selves, it is fearfully like that of Dr. K ; but Gasser, % 

who so well understands everything that is wild — mind, I do 
not say ' mild ' but ' wild ' — will have the goodness to help 
you with it. 

"I hope and believe for certain, that you yourself 
know how pleasant it is for one in your house, and how 
happy one must find oneself there, and how everything with 
you is pleasant and enlivening. But I must tell you sa 
plainly ; and must take this opportunity of telling you how 
truly grateful and beholden I feel towards you. I well knew% 
even during my stay in Munich, how much everything there 
pleased me, but I know it better still now." § 

* The dates were, La Sonnamhula, Oct. 23 ; Nurma, Oct. 25 ; Der 
Freischilfz, Oct. 28 ; concert for the orchestra, Kov. 1 ; La Figlia, Nov. 3 ; 
La Sonnamhula, Nov. 5 ; and La Figlia, Nov. 8. 

t About £130. 

X The young sculptor previously noticed. 

§ Translated from the original letter — a part only of which has beerk 
preserved by the kind permission of Madame von Kaulbach. 

1846.] SOUTH GERMANY. 17 

It is touching to mark the warmth of grateful recognition 
so artlessly expressed in the still unfamiliar German, the 
grammatical construction of which bore traces, even here, of 
those idiomatic difficulties which drive so many foreigners 
to despair. But, in the language of the heart, peculiarities 
of idiom are unknown; and it was in this language that 
Mdlle. Lind carried on her correspondence with her German 

To Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, she wrote thus : — 

" Stuttgard, Nov. 12, 1846. 

" I rank the Munich public quite certainly next to that 
of Vienna. 

" The house is splendid ; though the size of it caused me, 
at first, so much anxiety, that I positively determined not to 
sing in it. The orchestra is excellent. 

*' The Kaulbachs behave like parents to me. Enfin, all is 
well." * 

To her guardian, Judge Munthe, she wrote, on the following 
day, in her own native Swedish : — 

"Stuttgard, Nov. 13, 1846. 

" Munich is a splendid place, and I am going there again, 
before I go on to Vienna. 

" All my plans have been deranged by an engagement for 
the Italian Opera in London ; where I shall have no Grisi 
or other lorima donna star to contend with, but shall be 
chiefly supported by Signer Lablache. 

" The manager of the Opera followed me everywhere ; so I 
wrote, for advice, to Felix Mendelssohn, who, knowing London 
thoroughly, and me too, told me that I ought by all means 
to go there, and that it would be extremely unwise for me if 
I did not do so. 

" Lumley, the manager, offered me, from the 1st of April, 
to the 21st of August, 140,000 francs,t besides lodgings, and a 

* From Frau von Hillern's collection. 

t £5,600. That is to say, including the sum of 20,000 fr. (£800) 
already mentioned as contingent upon the journey to Italy. 


18 JENNY LIND. [bk. vr. ch. ii. 

carriage, and this does not seem very bad. No one has been 
offered half so much. My fate has been greatly changed 
indeed. But, do not mention this to any one, or people will 
talk about 1,400,000 millions ! 

" So, I shall not be much longer in Germany. I go to 
Vienna, most probably, next month; and, in February, to 
Italy, for the sake of the language. Do you approve ? If I 
am successful in London, I shall be honourably entitled to 
go home at Christmas, and live the life that my soul is 
longing for, and be able to do good to those for whom I 
care. * 

After fulfilling her engagement in Stuttgard, Mdlle. Lind 
proceeded to Carlsruhe ; where she sang, once, in La 
Sonnambula; once, in Lucia di Lammermoor ; and once, in 
La Vestale.\ The last-named performance took place on the 
2nd of December, and 200 gulden were then set apart, from 
the profits, for the benefit of the chorus, the ladies of which 
presented her with a wreath, accompanied with an exception- 
ally pretty poem, written for the occasion. :{: 

The visit to Carlsruhe was a very pleasant one. She 
speaks eloquently of the pleasure she derived from it, in the 
following letter to Madame von Kaulbach. 

" Carlsruhe, Nov. 25, 1846. 

" Dear honoured Madame Kaulbach ! 

" Many thanks for your most kind letter. 

" But Herr Hauser tells me you have been ill — and you 

say nothing about this. I hope, however, that you are now 

quite well again. If not, it would make me feel very 

anxious; and especially so, since I well know how much 

* Translated from the original Swedish. 

t On the 24th, and 27th, of November, and the 2nd of December. 

X The first stanza runs thus : 

" An Fraxjlein Jekny Lind. 
" Was unsre Brust mit Wonne je umschlungen, 

Des Marchens siisser triiumerischer Klang, 
Der Nachtigallen schmetternder Gesang, 
Der lieblich uns aus Waldes Nacht erklungen," etc. 

1846.] SOUTH GERMANY. 19 

you stand in need of healtli — as every one does not. I mean, 
it must be almost more necessary to you, because, when 
one can be as happy as you, it must be all the harder to 

be ill. 

" I am loDging for you again. Your mountain scenery has 
really some enchantment about it. I believe the good God 
did His best, when he raised the mountains. But when 
I say that ' I am longing,' dearest Madame Kaulbach, I 
mean for your home circle ; for you must know that I have 
very seldom indeed enjoyed the happiness of spending any 
time in a circle so artistic. I hope that I shall be with you 
again in a fortnight, at the latest, if you have no objection. 
Things go very well with me ; only, this travelling round 
and round about makes the world no Paradise; and the 
provincial element has something irritating in it. But — 
I have nearly finished — and hush ! the way through Munich, 
Vienna, Venice, and London, leads to Stockholm ! 

" I am glad that the good Gasser has succeeded in 
modelling so unruly an animal as I am, I think, however, 
that, had the case been reversed — that is to say, had he been 
I — it would so have happened, that he also would have found 
it impossible to keep still for a moment. 

" I greet the whole house, outside and inside, great and 
small, down to the two little birds ; and conclude with the 
wish that it may ever go as well with you as I from my 
heart desire. 

Your lovin 

" Jenny Lind 

» * 

Three days later we find the following letter, addressed to 
Madame Wichmann : — 

"Carlsruhe, Nov. 28, 1846. 

" My much-loved Amalia ! 

" You well know how my time is occupied ; and 
I need not assure you that the cause of my long silence must 
be attributed to this. 

" But you have given me much, much indeed, to think 
about; and many solemn earnest thoughts are running in 
my head, to make out why, without remonstrance, I must be 

* Translated from the original letter, by the kind permission of Madame 
von Kaulbach. 

c 2 

20 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. ii. 

with you in Berlin in the month of October. Thank you, 
for wishing this; and be assured that I will not leave 
Germany before I have seen you once more. 

"Eellstab has written me a splendid letter, which has 
given me no end of pleasure — though I still hold firm — tell 
him — and it remains as it was. Eemember me most kindly 
to him and his wife. 

« Yes ! — if it were only all over in London ! But the 
thought that it will be the last will strengthen me. 

"A thousand greetings to my Professor. He must just 
write me a few words at Christmas. Oh! beg him! — beg 
him ! 

" For ever yours, 

" Jenny." 

" Oh ! tell Dr. Mendelssohn that he must not quite forget 
me, I beg. 

"In a fortnight I shall be in Munich again; and, after 
that, in Vienna; about the 22-24 December." * 

From Carlsruhe, Mdlle. Lind proceeded to Heidelberg; 
where, on the 5th of December, she gave a Concert, with 
such success, that, on reaching her temporary lodgings, she 
was greeted with a serenade, accompanied by a torchlight 
procession of students ;t and, when she quitted the picturesque 
old town, on the following morning, its inhabitants expressed 
their thanks by presenting her with a poetical address, printed 
on a long narrow filet of delicate sea-green satin, fringed, at 
each end, with gold. J 

Proceeding thence to Mannheim, she sang, on the evening 
of the same day (Dec. 6), in La Figlia del Bcggimento ; and 
assisted, on the 7th, at a concert given by Mr. Kuhe. 

Prom Mannheim she travelled to Nuremberg, where she 
sang, on the 9th of December, in la Sonnamhula, and, on the 
11th, in La Figlia del Jleggimento ; and, that nothing might 

* From the Wicbmann collection. 

t Fackelzug. 

X The address— dated Dec. 6, 1846— was headed with a monogram, 

1846.] SOUTH GERMANY. 21 

be wanting to render this provincial tour a remarkable one, 
the worthy burghers of that most quaint and beautiful of 
mediaeval cities — the birthplace of Albert Diirer, and Peter 
Vischer, and the cradle of those Arts of ornamental metal- 
work and priceless orfevcrie, for which Germany was so famous 
in the Middle Ages — the worthy burghers of Nuremberg, 
descendants of the Merchant-Princes of the fifteenth and 
sixteenth centuries, and, in less princely lineage, from the 
Meistersinger who flourished under the leadership of the 
renowned Hans Sachs, commemorated her visit, by striking 
a medal in her honour.* 

From Nuremberg to its Art-sister, Augsburg — the birth- 
place of the great Fugger family, and the present home of 
many of its honourable descendants — the distance is but 
eighty-nine English miles ; and in Augsburg, she gave, on 
the 13th of December, the last concert at which she proposed 
to sing before her return to Munich. 

On the same day, she wrote to Madame von Kaulbach : — 

" Augsburg, Dec. 13, 1846. 

" Deae, good Madame Kaulbach ! 

" At last, I have come as far as tliis. 
" It was a trying journey for me, through very heavy snow. 
It is well for me that I am a ' Child of the North,' otherwise, 

formed of tlie head of Minerva, a lyre, a wreath, a brancli of laurel, and a 
roll of music ; and began thus : — 

"Abschied der Heidelberger 


*das Madchen aus der Fremde,' 
Jenny Lind. 

Auch uns'rem Thai ist sie erschienen : 

Das ' Madchen schon und wunderbar.' 
Der Holden Liebe zu verdienen, 

Wetteiferte der Hirten Schaar ! " etc. 

* The visit having been made in December, the medal was not ready 

for presentation to Mdlle. Lind until the following year. 

22 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. ii. 

it would certainly not have gone so well with me as it has 
now done. 

" To-morrow, we start from here by the first train ; * and 
I shall rejoice exceedingly to see you all once more, though I 
feel that it is very bold of me to make use of your house 
again. But — you have so completely spoiled me, that I shall 
nevermore let anyone deprive me of my rights. 

" A thousand thanks for your last letter. Yes ! Quiet joy 
of home — what can exceed it ? Ah ! perhaps something of 
that kind may bloom for me, next year. Home-sickness 
I feel always. Perhaps it will be better for me, when I come 
to you. 

" Kindest remembrance to all, from your heartily-loving 

"Jenny LiND."t 

For this second visit to Munich the Operas chosen were 
La Figlia del Mcggimcnto, on the IGth of December; Don 
Jtian, on the 18th; and Lc Nozzc di Figaro on the 20th, 
In addition to these, there was a Concert for the Orchestra,, 
on the 17th ; and a performance of the Creation, also for the 
benefit of the Orchestra, on the 25th. 

It was another Christmas spent far away from home. 
But, if it lacked the blessing of home-associations and the 
simple pleasures of Swedish national observances, it was 
consecrated, in a special manner, to the highest interests of 
Art and the warmest sentiments of humanity. 

Would it have been possible to have celebrated the 
Nativity of Our Lord in a more noble way, than by taking 
the leading part in one of the greatest masterpieces of Sacred 
Music that the famous School of Vienna has ever produced, 
and devoting the proceeds of this labour of love to the benefit 
of fellow-artists who stood in need of help ? Surely, this 
was doing good work, not for Art alone, but for Him to 
Wliose bounty we owe that priceless gift. 

* The first railroad ever constructed in Germany — from Nuremberg to 
Fiirth — had then been opened exactly ten years. 

t Translated from tlie original letter, by the kind permisgion of Madame 
von Kaulbach. 

( 23 ) 



Within a fortnight after her farewell performance of Haydn's 
Creation, at Munich — a performance all the more interesting, 
since, taken in connection with the previous one at the 
Lower Ehine Festival, it marks the beginning of that long 
series of Sacred Concerts which afterwards became so justly 
famous both in England and in Germany — within a fort- 
night after this, Mdlle. Lind was again hard at work in 
Vienna, where she arrived on the last day of the year 1846. 

Since her first visit a sad change had taken place. To her 
great sorrow — for she had learned sincerely to respect her — 
Madame Vivanot, in whose house she had lived so com- 
fortably, was dead. She therefore chose for her residence 
some apartments annexed to the Tlucdcr an der Wien, and 
known as the Theater Gelducle. These she rented from Herr 
Pokorny; and in these she remained until the end of her 

The change was a sad one, and she felt it deeply. But 
she did not live a lonely life, in Vienna. She had already 
found many firm and kind friends in the Imperial city ; 
notably, the Countess Schonborn, and her sister the Countess 
Euenburg ; and, as we have already had occasion to notice, the 
poet Grillparzer. But she had formed a closer intimacy 
still with the family of Herr Oberstabsarzt Professor Dr. von 
Jaeger, a physician of high reputation, whose daughter was 
her chosen friend, and to whose amiable wife she looked up 

24 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. CH. iii. 

as to a mother. With these dear friends, whom we shall 
have frequent occasion to mention again, she spent all her 
free days during the season of 1847 ; and she afterwards 
spoke of this period as one of the happiest in her life. 

Of her experiences in Vienna, she wrote thus, to Madame 
Birch Pfeiffer : — 

" I am living at Pokorny's ; for, only think ! poor Madame 
Vivanot, with whom I lived last year, is dead. It has grieved 
me terribly. I shall only stay here for this month. Un- 
happily, the Feldlager will be given later than I expected, 
and I shall only be able to take part in a few representations. 
I am the more sorry for this, because the Opera has now 
been made so very different, and my role has been greatly 
improved ! 

" Meyerbeer behaves to me like an angel. I cannot help 
being fond of him — and really am so. He takes an 
enormous amount of trouble with his work, and I hope it 
will succeed. 

" Things are going on better here at the theatre than they 
did last spring. But I am not so happy, here, as at Munich, 
I dream of Munich. I return there from here, direct, to 
study Itahan very quietly at the Kaulbachs ; for I am not 
going to Italy. That would take me too far out of my way ; 
and I have an excellent opportunity of studying Italian, 
with a true friend." * 

Meanwhile, Mdlle. Lind remained as great a favourite as 
ever with the public. The Operas in which she appeared 
during this second season, were. La Figlia del Rcggimento 
— performed six times ; Das Feldlager in ScJilcsicn, produced 
under the new title of Vielka, and performed thirteen times, 
under the personal superintendence of Meyerbeer himself; 
La Sonnamhda—^ve performances ; and Norma, performed 
once only, on the farewell night, f 

The Opera chosen for the artist's re- appearance, on the 

* From Frau von Hillem's collection. The friend here mentioned was 
Herr Haiiser. 
t For the dates of these performances, see pp. 37-38. 

^yi^U/olMza. -t/rt -{he cAaAac^' cf- 'nz!/iifi -tn. nda J<mm. ael- ^ yteaM/me'n/o. 


<C!Z;^^ — ^'^'^ 

Printed "by permission of J.Aiol.Pa'blisher Mimidh . 


7th of January, 1847, was La Flglia del Eeggimento, under 
its new German title, Marie, die Tochter des Regiments. 

In the playbill * now before us, no other name than that 
of Mdlle. Lind is mentioned ; and the prices of admission 
announced are, twenty gulden for a box ; five gulden for a 
stall ; and two gulden, thirty kreuzers, for a reserved seat, or 
one gulden, twenty kreuzers, for an unreserved place — 
meaning literally standing-room — in the pit.f 

The success of the new role was indescribable. The light 
and graceful music was exactly suited to the taste of a 
Viennese audience ; and the Opera became so popular, that, 
after the first few representations had taken place, a portrait 
of Mdlle. Lind, in the character of " Marie," pablished at 
Munich, found its way at Vienna into the house of every 
music-lover in the city. The print was so well executed — so 
much superior, in every way, to the average portraits of 
dramatic artists "in character," — that we have thought it 
better to present our readers with a copy of it, at once, than 
to reserve our illustration — as we had originally intended 
to do — untn our notice of the production of the Opera in 

The Wiener Zeitung, which had always been more cautious 
in its expressions of praise than the Berlin newspapers, 
entirely forgot its reserve, on the present occasion. 

"We will not criticise Fraulein Jenny Lind," it said; 
" we mil only rejoice to see her once more in the midst of 
us, though only for a short time. We will hear her ; wonder 
at her — at this sensitive poetical manifestation of the tone- 
Avorld, which, uniting music with feeling and imagination, 
floats in a light ever more and more pellucid and beautiful. 
But one must not only hear Fraulein Jenny Lind. In order 
to form an idea of the magic of her voice, one must know her 
also. Her song is the audible expression of her inner life. 

* Theaterzettel. 

t About £2 ; 10s. ; 4s. Gd. ; and 2s. M. 

26 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch, in. 

Her acting and singing melt into one another, and the 
beauty of the dramatic expression moves hand in hand with 
the nobility of the declamatory vocalisation. A voice so 
ideal, and so full of soul, a manner so earnest, such child- 
like naivete, such deep poetry, such perfect innocence of 
song, form a very rare manifestation in the world of Art. We 
find in Fraulein Jenny Lind's singing a fervour, a feeling, a 
spiritual life ; precious qualities, by means of which she 
ennobles the most insignificant details, and raises them to 
the highest level of esthetic beauty. And it is precisely from 
her creative power of conception, her inspiration, and her 
sympathetic character, that this aesthetic beauty springs." * 

But the triumphs at the Tlieater an der Wien were not the 
only agreeable events by which the opening of the new year 
was enlivened. 

It happened that, at this time, Dr. Robert and Madame 
Clara Schumann were staying in Vienna and giving concerts 
of deep artistic significance. And it will be readily under- 
stood that Mdlle. Lind did not neglect so happy an oppor- 
tunity of practically expressing her thanks for the kindness 
Madame Schumann had shown her, at her own concert in 
Leipzig, in the previous spring. 

The three first concerts were over. At the fourth, and 
last, announced to take place on the 10th of January, Mdlle. 
Lind had offered to sing ; and the demand for tickets then sO' 
greatly increased the possible supply, that the room was 
crowded to suffocation. 

Madame Schumann played Beethoven's Sonata in F 
minor (Op. 57) ; Bach's Prelude and Fugue in A minoi' ; 
Schumann's Traumesivirrcn ; a Lied dhne Worte, by Men- 
delssohn ; and Henselt's study. Si oiseau fetais. 

* From the Wiener Zeitung for January 17, 1847. This critique forms 
the first of a long series, which, with a poem bj' Grillparzer, were printed 
in gold, with ornamental borders ; bound in green velvet and gold ; and 
presented to Mdlle. Lind, in a little volume, entitled ' Erinnerungen an 
Wien, im Jahre 1847,' by Michael Edler von Kambach, co-editor and 
administrator of the Wiener Zeitung. 


Mdlle. Lind sang a Canzonette, by Geraldy ; Mendels- 
sohn's Ai(f Flugcln dcs Gesanges ; Mangold's Zivicgesang ; 
Schumann's Nusshaum ; and a Swedish song. 

The concert was most successful. IMadame Schumann 
played to perfection ; and the songs received additional 
lustre from her delightful accompaniments, with which those 
of Mendelssohn alone could be worthily compared. 

The reader cannot fail to be interested with the following 
extracts from the Diary she kept at this time : — 

"1847. Saturday, Jan. 2. — Called early on Jenny Lind, 
who greeted me with a request to sing at my last Concert, 
whereat I was greatly delighted. She refused all thanks, 
telling me, over and over again, that she looked upon it as 
an obligation ; and that, besides that, she esteemed it an 
honour to sing at my Concert. 

" Wednesday, Jan. 6. — Jenny Lind called on us for re- 
hearsal. She came earlier than was arranged ; and, as she 
did not find us at home, she entertained herself with my two 
children, whom we found upon her lap when we returned. 
She is a dear creature, full of soul, whom I like better and 
better, the more I see of her. 

" Sunday, Jan. 10. — Gave my fourth and last Concert, which 
was full to crusliing [zum Erdruckcn volt), so that many 
people could get no places at all. Jenny Lind sang wonder- 
fully. One can never forget such achievements. 

" Monday, Jan. 11. — "We called on Jenny Lind, who, im- 
mediately upon our entrance, called out, ' Will you not give 
another Concert, and let me sing at it ? ' We stayed rather a 
long time with her ; and I sat as if rooted to my place. I 
am so fond of her. She is for me the warmest noblest 
being that I have yet found among Artistes — and how can I 
ever forget her ? One must know her,, and know her tho- 
roughly, to love her as I do. We talked about many things, 
including Stockholm, when she made me promise that I 
would stay with her, when I came there, and that I would not 
go unless she was there herself, so that she might take part in 
my Concerts. It was very nice of her. I could have hugged 
her all the time ! " * 

* Translated from the original German, by the kind permission of 
Madame Schumann. 

'28 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. hi. 

There were many other Concerts, during the winter. A 
private one, on the 13th of January, at the house of the 
Ptussian Grand Duchess ; a soiree, on the 2nd of February, 
given by the Archduchess Sophie, the mother of the present 
Emperor of Austria, and another, on the 8th of February, 
given by the Empress, the Consort of the Emperor Ferdinand. 
At the Archduchess Sophie's soiree, the songs selected were, 
Meyerbeer's Bohcrt, toi quefaimc, Mendelssohn's Avf Flugeln 
■des Gesangcs, Mangold's Zwiegcsang, Mozart's Deh vieni, nan 
tarclar, and Taubert's Wiegenliccl ; at that given by the 
Empress — Mozart's Das Vdlclien, "Weber's Und oh die Wolke, 
llandhartinger's Die Fisclierin, and Haydn's Nun heuf die 
Mur (" With verdure clad "). The members of the Imperial 
family had, from the first, shown all honour to the talented 
" Guest," and received her with marked attention, as we had 
•occasion to observe when recordino; the events of her first 
visit to the Austrian capital ; and they always heard her sing 
with every sign of unaffected pleasure. 

Besides assisting at the Court performances, Mdlle. Lind 
sang, " for love," at a concert given, on the 24tli of January, 
by tlie little Wilhelmina Neruda — now Lady Halle — who, 
though then little more than six-and-a-half years old, had 
already made a great reputation, in Vienna, as a child- 
violinist ; and — again "for love" — on the 26th, at a per- 
formance given, at the Theater an der Wien, by the Swedish 
composer, Herr Franz Berwald, taking the part of the 
Bride, in his new composition, Das Idndliche Verlohungsfcst, 
and winning new laurels by her execution of the difficult 
Swedish melodies with which it abounds. There was also a 
third concert, given, on the 31st of January, at the Theater 
an der Wien, by Herr Saphir — a strange compound of 
humour, wit, music, and journalism— in which she took part, 
(though very much against the wish of Grillparzer, who 
openly opposed the scheme, and wrote more than one un- 


published epigram on the subject), on the ground that the 
entire receipts were to be distributed, in equal shares, between 
the Kinderspital, or Children's Hospital, and the Klein- 
kincUrheivaliranstalt, or Home for Little Children, for both of 
which the results were most fortunate. 

It is pleasant to know that, while she was thus at work 
for others who stood in need of help, friends at a distance 
were doing the best they could for her. 

First among those who watched over her interests was 
Mendelssohn, who wrote to her thus : — 

" Leipzig, Feb. 19, 1847. 

" It is a long time since we have spoken to each other, my 
dear Friiulein. Why I must begin my letter thus, and why 
my heart felt so heavy, when Dr. Schumann brought me your 
letter — delayed since the 20tli of last month — I will some 
day tell you, in detail, by word of mouth. 

" To-day I have before all things, a favour to ask of you. 
You will think this a great bore : for which reason I come 
down upon it, like a sledge-hammer — seeing that I can in no 
wise let you off it. 

"When your journey to England was in question, you 
once showed me confidence enough to ask my opinion ; and, 
in connection with this, I have now something on my mind. 

" In your last letter but one, you say : — ' Lumley takes 
Bunn's contract wholly upon himself: that I have in writing.' 
Is it asking too much, if I beg you, as soon as you have a 
moment to spare, to tell me where this stands written by 
Lumley ? i.e. to send me a copy of the vjords in which he 
pledges himself to take over the contract, and to let me see 
whether these words stand in your engagement with Lumley, 
or somewhere else ? 

" It seems to me, now, as if I saw you vexed at this 
request — but do not be so. I feel as if I should not have 
done my duty properly, if I had not asked you to send me 
this copy, and then, after knowing all about it, given my 
opinion more amply. Beforehand, I cannot give it ; and, if 
you will allow yourself to be vexed at my importunity, I tell 
you that you yourself are in fault, since, by telling me so 
much, you gave me the right to enquire farther — made it, 
in fact, my duty to do so. 

30 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. hi. 

" A few days ago, Herr Arnemann was here, and we 
talked the whole thing over ; but no one understands these 
matters more exactly than myself, for I have often had to do 
with the English, and, for that very reason, I should not like, 
to say anything incorrectly or by halves ; and, for that very 
reason, et ccetera, et ccctera* 

" Lumley began to send me the libretto for the Opera, 
barely three weeks ago. It seems to me impossible to get 
the music for such a subject ready for the stage, in time for 
this season — that is to say, by May, at the latest — and I am 
in doubt as to whether I had better begin it, and get on as 
far as I can, or not begin it at all, since, as I said before, I 
feel that it will be impossible for me to finish it. There has 
already been much vexation, in connection with this f — but 
I will tell you all about it, viva voce. 

" To Madame Birch-Pfeiffer I have — as I had already 
resolved — written no more. But she wrote to me, lately, 
quite unexpectedly, to say that, for many reasons, to her 
"most hitter sorroiv, she could not entertain the idea of writing 
a libretto for me. To this, however, I have not replied : and 
I think we are now of one mind. 

" This letter is like a room in which people have been 
playing practical jokes, and turned all the furniture upside 
down. It is a great bore to have to set everything straight, 
and to put it into its right place. But it must be done, all 
the same ; and only after that can one live comfortably there 
again. Do not weary yourself to make this clearance. 

" It is all well with us here at home, thank God ! and we 
all think of you, every day. Breitkopf and Hartel have 
just sent me the first copy of a new quartette, by Hermann 
Wichmann, that they are now publishing. A few months 
ago I was staying in Wichmann's house again, and was much 
pleased with your portrait, by Magnus, which is now there, 
instead of yourself.| 

" I have often and often thought over what you more than 
once said to me about Leipzig, when we were on the Ehine. I 
believe you were right ; and, sooner or later, I shall have to 
follow your advice. 

* This was a familiar expression, used by Meudelssohu and Mdlle. 
Lind, when they both knew what was meant, and needed no farther 

t See Lumley's account, in the work already mentioned. 

X See vol. i., pp. 362-363. 


" My servant, to whom I was as much attached as you to 
your Annette, has died in our house, after a long iUness. I 
was called up in the night ; and, just as I came to him, he 
died. Since then, I have never been able to get over the 

" Joachmi played splendidly at the concert, yesterday. He 
is a first-rate fellow. Apart from this, the music does not 
sound very well here, this winter ; it is a little rough. 

" This is a horrid letter ! 

" With a thousand greetings from Cecile, and the children, 

" Your friend, 
" Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy." 

With reference to the question which chiefly prompted 
Mendelssohn to write this letter — Mr. Lumley's promise to 
take the consequences of the " Bunn contract " upon himself 
— we shall have more to say hereafter. His remarks with 
regard to the libretto involve considerations so weighty, and 
so intimately connected with an important crisis in his own 
Art-life, that we shall find it necessary to devote a special 
chapter to them, in a later division of our work. We shall, 
therefore, dismiss the subject for the present, and proceed to 
the description of a new triumph, which produced no small 
amount of excitement at the Theater an der Wien. 

32 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. iv. 



While the negotiations recorded in the preceding chapter 
were being pressed forward, with no very certain prospect of 
ultimate success, in Leipzig, another project, invested with a 
peculiar interest of its own, and intimately connected with 
the Art-life of Mdlle. Lind, was brought to a much more 
successful issue in Vienna. 

As early as the 2nd of December, 1846, Meyerbeer had 
requested, and obtained, from the King of Prussia, two 
months' leave of absence, for the purpose of bringing out a 
revised version of Das Fddlagcr in ScJilesien in the Austrian 
capital. He did not, indeed, take advantage of this permis- 
sion until some time after it had been granted ; but, early in 
the month of February, 1847, the work was put into active 
rehearsal, at the Theater an dcr Wien; and on the 18th it 
was performed there for the first time, with certain changes 
in the lihreUo intended for the purpose of rendering it more 
acceptable to a Viennese audience, and under the new title 
of ViclJca. 

Though the work was emphatically a piece de circon- 
stance, written for the express purpose of flattering the 
national spirit of Prussia, and in no wise concerned with 
that of Austria, its success was triumphant. It had an 
immediate run of thirteen nights, interrupted only by a 
performance of the Creation, for the benefit of the orchestra ; 
and the famous trio for Vielka and the two -flutes — after- 


1847.] VIELEA. 33 

wards transferred to LEtoiU du Nord, of which it formed 
the chief attraction — became at once extremely popular. 

In a critique too long and elaborate to quote in its 
entirety, the Wiener Zeitung says of this beautiful trio : — 

" Jenny Lind appears, in the role of ' Vielka, excellently 
great both as a singer, and an actress. As loveliest among 
the lovely touches in her exalted theme, and finest among 
the fine, we may call special attention, in the First Act, 
to the song with the Eondo, sung with elfish spirit and 
charming gracefulness ; in the Third Act, to the solo, with 
the flute-duet, in which Vielka sings now before, and now 
after the flutes. Jenny Lind sang this piece in such sort, 
that, out of the flute-duet a flute-trio was elaborated ; 
developing her masterly passages like an uninterrupted row 
of pearls, in an unsurpassable manner, so tender, so melt- 
ing, so certain, that the public was truly enchanted and 
bewitched." * 

It is impossible to read this account, whether the language 
affected by the critic be thought high-flown or not, without 
feeling assured that the new reading of the part of " Vielka " 
must have been superb. Yet, so dissatisfied was Mdlle. Lind 
with the concrete result of her sublime ideal — an ideal far 
higher than that which it had been her aim to attain at 
Berlin, for, great as was her Art, it was unquestionably 
developing, year by year — so dissatisfied was she with this, 
that, when the last flowers had been strown, and the echo of 
the last burst of applause had died away, she left the stage 
in despair at what she considered an ignoble failure, and 
with the full conviction that Meyerbeer himself would reproach 
her with having done injustice to his beautiful Opera. 

We have already said, that, among her most intimate 
friends in Vienna, during the season of 1847, were Professor 
von Jaeger, and his wife and daughter, at whose house she was 
accustomed to spend most of her free days, at this period. 

* From the Wiener Zeitung, for February 26, 1847 ; and reprinted, in 
Id, in the before-mentioned volume. 


34 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. iv. 

The last-named lady, Fraulein Auguste von Jaeger, re- 
members the first performance of VicUca perfectly. At the 
fall of the curtain, she and her mother hurried to Mdlle. 
Lind's dressing-room to congratulate her on her new triumph. 
They found her in the white robe in which, as a purified 
spirit, she had just ascended to the skies ; surrounded by the 
flowers which had been thrown upon the stage and after- 
wards brought to her room ; and bathed in tears of penitence 
for her " imperfect singing," which had " spoiled the Opera." 

While they were endeavouring to console her, some one 
knocked at the door which she had locked. It was Meyer- 
beer, begging for admittance. In a voice broken by sobs, 
she cried through the closed door, " Oh ! Herr Director ! 
forgive me for singing so badly, and spoiling your Opera ! " 

''But, you have sung divinely!" said Meyerbeer. "It 
was all splendid. I have come to thank you! to thank 
you ! " 

But she refused to be comforted. Whatever Meyerbeer 
may have thought, she had fallen short of her own ideal. 

She could neither satisfy herself, nor endure the self- 
satisfaction of others. She once said to Fraulein von Jaeger, 
" I wish I could hope to become, one day, as great an artist 
as Fraulein believes herself to be every day." Frau- 
lein was a lady who sang minor parts, at the Theater 

an der Wien. 

On the evening of this memorable first performance, a 
high compliment was paid to her, in the name of the art 
lovers of Vienna. The event was thus described, in the 
Wiener Zcitung : — 

"The applause so eagerly coveted by the artists, the 
singers, the dancers on the stage, who, as Schiller says, 
represent the world, is swiftly hushed ; and its echo alone 
survives in the memory of their contemporaries, with whom 
even that passes away. 

1847.] VIELKA. 35 

"Therefore it is, that, in all times, men have sought to 
preserve the individuality of the artist for future genera- 
tions, by means of the pencil, or of engravings upon metal. 
And therefore it was, that, on the occasion of the first 
appearance of the splendid dramatic singer, Mdlle. Lind, in 
Vienna, many of our friends of Art made known their wish to 
honour her memory, by a lasting sign of recognition, and to 
present the same to her in person. 

" They therefore caused a medal to be engraved ; commit- 
ting its execution to Herr Carl Eadnitzky, who is un- 
doubtedly one of the most talented medallists of the present 
generation — and the engraver has fulfilled his task most 

" The obverse of the medal he has produced represents the 
well-caught features of the artist, with hair artistically 
arranged ; and, above this, the inscription, Jenny Lind. The 
reverse presents a swan, the emblem of song, with a branch 
of laurel ; and, above this, the motto, ncscit occasum, applic- 
able to the pole-star as symbolising the singer from the 
north, who, through the art of her singing, the perfection of 
her dramatic performances, and the noble individuality of 
the characters she impersonates, represents one of the most 
artistic manifestations of the age. Under the swan are 
the words, ' To the Gkeat Aktist, fkom her enthusiastic 
Admirers, mdcccxlvi. Vienna.' * 

" This medal accompanied with an address encircled by a 
silver laurel wreath, and signed by the leaders of the 
Viennese Art-world, and other persons of note, was presented 
to the artist, by Herr Pokorny, on the evening of the first 
performance of VielJca." f 

Tliis act of recognition, however, was not the last of the 

On the 28th of March, 1847, INIdlle. Lind was presented, 
by command of the Emperor Ferdinand, with' an official 
diploma, appointing her Kammcrsdngcrin to His Imperial 
Majesty. The document was signed by the High Chamber- 

* Der holien Kunstlerin ihre begeisterten Verelirer. mdcccxlvi, 

t From the Wiener Zeitung for the 7tli of March, 1847 ; and reprinted 
in gold, in the velvet-bound volume. 

D 2 

36 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. iv. 

lain, Count Moritz von Dietrichstein, and was couched in the 
following terms : — 

" From His Imperial Apostolic Majesty of Hungary and 
Bohemia, in Lombardy and Venice, in Galicia, Lodomeria, 
and lUyria, Archduke of Austria, our most gracious Lord, 
graciously to be made known to Fraulein Jenny Lind : — 

"His I.E. Majesty having, in accordance with the most 
obedient report of the undersigned I.E. High Chamber- 
lain and in full recognition of your brilliant and 
universally acknowledged talents, and also as a token of 
the special and gracious satisfaction given by your 
repeated and splendid art achievements at Court, as 
well as of the noble and philanthropic feeling with 
which you have so often and so willingly dedicated your 
rare musical gifts to the promotion of benevolent 
designs, is graciously pleased to confer upon you the 
title of Imperial Eoyal Chamber Singer.* 

" It gives the greatest pleasure to the undersigned I.E. High 
Chamberlain to be entrusted by His Imperial Majesty 
herewith to make known to you this gracious distinc- 
tion, as an honourable acknowledgment of your eminent 
accomplishments, and your estimable personal qualities. 

(Signed) "Mokitz Graf vox Dieteichstein. 

" From the I. E. Chamberlain's Office. 
"Vienna, March 28, 1847." 

Simultaneously with these tokens of honour and respect 
Viclkct continued to maintain an uninterrupted run, at the 
Tluater an dcr Wien, until its thirteenth performance, on 
the 28th of March. The last two representations, however, 
were " benefits," given, on the 22nd of March, for the chorus, 
and, on the 25th, for Herr Staudigl. The last-named 
performance was the last but one of the season. On the 
last night of all — April the 7th — Mdlle. Lind sang in Norma, 
for her own benefit, with the brilliant success which has 
been so often described that it is unnecessary to recapitulate 
the details on the present occasion. 

* k. k. Kammer Sanger in. 




A few more concerts also took place, in Marcli, and April. 

On the 7th of March, the Eussian Grand Duchess already- 
mentioned gave a private soiree ; and, on the 17th, the Arch- 
Duchess Sophia, gave a concert, at which Mdlle. Lind sang 
Haydn's Nun heut die Flur (With verdure clad) ; Mozart's 
SuW Aria, (with Mdlle. Wildauer) ; Bellini's Casta Diva ; and 
the unaccompanied trio from Eohert der Teufel — UnseVger 
AugenUick — (with Herren von Marchion, and Staudigl). 

She also sang, on the 21st of March, for Herr Mcolai, 
the composer of Die lustigen Weiher von Windsor ; on the 
26th, at a concert given for the Biirger-Spital ; and, on 
the 8th of April, the last performance of the season, she 
sang for Dr. Becher, a literary and artistic friend of 
Mendelssohn's, who lost his life in the political disturb- 
ances of 1848.* 

* As in the case of Berlin, we subjoin a complete list of tlie performances 
at Vienna, during the seasons of 1846, and 1847. 




La Sonnamhula. 

Apr. 22. 




La Sonnamhula. 

„ 24. 




La Sonnamhula. 

„ 29. 

La Sonnamlula. 




May 8. 

Der Freischiitz. 




„ 13. 

Die GhibelUnen in Fisa 




(Les Huguenots). 




„ 20. 

La Sonnavibula (benefit). 







1846. (Concerts.) 




May 10. 

For Herr Taubert. 




„ 21. 

For a charity. 











Jan. 7. 

La Fkjlia del Eecjgimento. 




„ 9. 

LaFiglia delReggimento. 




„ 12. 

La Figlia del Reggimento. 



Norma (benefit). 

„ 14. 

„ 19. 

La Figlia del Reggimen to . 
La Figlia del Reggimento. 

1847 (COXCERTS). 

„ 20. 

La Figlia del Reggimento. 



For Madame Schumann.* 

„ 23. 

La Sonnamhula. 



Soire'e, given by the 

„ 25. 

La Sonnamhula. 




[bK. VI. CH. IV, 

1847 1 

(Concerts) — continued. 



For"Thelittle Nenida."* 



For Herr Berwald.* 



For Herr Saphir.* 



Soiree. The Arcli-Duchess 



Soiree. The Empress of 


, 7. 

Soiree. The Eussian 
Grand Duchess. 

Mar. 11. The Creation. For the 
„ 17. Soiree.The Arch-Duchess 

„ 21. For Herr Kicolai.* 
„ 26. For the Biirgerspital.* 
Apr. 8. For Herr Becher.* 

The list for 1847 is copied en- 
tire!}^ from Mdlle. Lind's own 
engagement-book. On the occasions- 
marked *, she sang gratuitously 

( 39 ) 



The events narrated in our preceding chapter are connected 
rather with the history of the Vienna season of 1847, than 
with the more intimate life of the subject of our present 

With reference to the latter, we prefer leaving Mdlle. 
•Lind to speak in her own words. The following letter to 
Madame AVichmann will show that Madame Schumann's 
affection for her was warmly returned : — 

" Vienna, Jan. 20, 1847. 

"Deaeest Amalia, 

" I know so well your love and self-denying kindness 
for me, that I do not for a moment fear that you will be vexed 
if I send someone to your house. Is it not so ? You will 
not be angry with me ? 

" I mean the Schumanns. 

" You know, of course, that her talent is altogether 
splendid ; for, of course you have often heard of her as Clara 
Wieck. They are two such excellent and noble, really noble 
persons, that they will give you great pleasure. Please, 
dearly beloved, receive these two dear, people kindly, and as 
friends, for your own sake, and for mine. The wife is very 
sensitive, and you will see that she is quite an exceptional 
woman. He is a composer ^j/cwi cV esprit, and modest to the last 
degree. I asked them if they had any acquaintances in 
Berlm ; and they seemed to me to have no real ones. And 
then it was that I thought of you ; and you may well know 
how grateful I shall be. 

" Ah, yes ! When shall I see you again ? Mon Dieu ! 

40 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. v. 

This longing for rest grows upon me, almost beyond all 
measure ; but time passes quickly, and no mortal will be so 
glad as I, when I am but free. 

" Jenny." * 

The next letter is written three weeks later : — 

"Vienna, Feb. 13, 1847. 

"Deaely Beloved, 

" What can you be thinking about ! I, going to 
Paris ! Wlio could have told you that ? And how could I 
have entertained such an idea, without telling you of it ! 

" No, dearest Amalia. I am not only not going to Paris, 
but it seems as if I shall not even go to London. 

" Bunn will not give up the contract ; and I cannot go 
there unless he does so, for he actually threatens to put me 
in prison ! ! ! I tell you, Amalia, I should be wild with joy, 
if I had not to go there ! 3Io7i Dicu ! Suppose it fell out so ! 

" They have made me all possible offers from Paris ; but 
I did not need a moment to think it over. 

" The stage I will leave — and I shall then want nothing 
else in the world. 

" I am quite well ; and it goes more than well with me 
here. Das Fcldlagcr is not yet ready ; but it is to be given 
next week, and it goes very well. The Opera will certainly 
create o. furore here in Vienna. 

" I rejoice that it gives me so much pleasure to hear of 
Viardot Garcia's success in Berlin. I have never been envious 
for a moment. Tell Taubert so : he tliinks me rather weak 
on that point. 

" For ever and ever, with my whole heart, 

" Your loving 

" Jenny." f 

Swiftly, yet stealthily, the shadow was drawing near : and 
a dark and baleful shadow it must have seemed, to one who 
did not know how utterly unreal it was — to an inexperienced 
young artist, ignorant of English legal technicalities, English 

* From the Wichmann collection. 
t lUd. 

1847.] TEE SHADOW 41 

manners and customs, and even the prevailing tone of 
English feeling. 

There were interests at stake in London, apart from the 
private interests of Mr. Bunn, for the furtherance of which it 
was desirable that Mdlle. Lind should be prevented from 
singing in England, at any cost : these interests were 
supported, by a certain section of the press ; and, in the hope 
of securing them, deliberate efforts were made to persuade 
Mdlle. Lind that, if she came to England, she would be put 
in prison. 

There is strong evidence to prove that she did believe this. 
And the belief terrified her, and preyed upon her mind, and 
filled it with hesitation as to whether she could safely venture 
to fulfil her contract with Mr. Lumley. A letter written by 
her about this time to Madame Kaulbach, though it contains 
no direct allusion to the circumstances, betrays a tone of 
depression very painful to observe. It is true, there were 
moments of exultation. Where her Art was concerned, she 
was all fire and energy. On the 4th of March, she wrote to 
Judge Munthe : — 

"Ah, the best gifts are good health — and independence. 
No one under the sun is so happy as I am. Wliat a divine 
sentiment it is, to be conscious of one's happiness ! My 
Art gives me immense pleasure. I am experiencing such 
moments of light in it — and I have made the acquaintance of 
so many eminent and good people." * 

" Moments of light ! " Yes. The possibilities of Art 
when guided by the light of genius, are infinite. And, great 
as were Mdlle. Lind's attainments, her ideal was developing, 
and leading her to still more ethereal heights. 

But this was evidently written under a happy star. Had 
she written with equal cheerfulness to Mendelssohn, he 
would not have answered her thus : — 

* Translated from the original Swedish. 

42 JENNT LIND. [bk. vi. ch. v. 

" Leipzig, Marcli 14, 1847. 

" My dear Feaulein, 

" You well know how glad I am, when I receive a 
letter from you. But, your last contained certain things 
that make me feel very uncomfortable, or rather, the whole 
letter does so. You say, in one place, that you feel sad, and 
restless, and cannot sleep ; and apart from tliis, the letter 
seems to me agitated throughout: and this it is that 
troubles me. 

" I therefore write these few lines to you, to-day ; though 
it is difiicult to converse, and give advice, at the distance of 
so many miles, and with so many days' journey between 
us. Who knows that you may not have forgotten it all, 
and become quite cheerful again, by the time that this 
reaches you ? And it will be better, so. For you can then 
leave it unread, and its purpose will be answered all the 

" But if you are still restless, and out of tune, when this 
arrives, and, if the English business is to blame for this, 
I entreat you, my dear Fraulein, do not let your reasoning 
power, otherwise so clever and natural, be troubled by the 
horrid outcry on this side and on that, and all the tumults, 
and all the wretchedness of it. For, after all, the great 
advantage of a good conscience here below is, that it is the 
one thing of which no one can rob one; that, imder its 
guidance, one is led through all the quarrelling and fighting 
on the way, and attains the goal unhurt ; and others wonder 
at one's courage, and one's wisdom, and Heaven knows what, 
while it is just the simple and honest good conscience alone 
that works all the wonder ; and so it has always been with 
you, and will be, again and again. 

" I confess that, after all you have told me, I would rather 
that you had not promised Lumley to go to England ; and, 
especially, I wovild rather that you had not offered Bunn 
such a sum as you tell me, for the contract. I am very 
sorry indeed that you have done this ; but, since you have 
done it, the thing is settled. And here, again, it is settled 
for the best, if only you do not let your rest and peace of 
mind be destroyed through it ; for you well know that you 
meant rightly and nobly. 

" Moreover, I know that you will have warmer friends,, 
and a heartier welcome, and a greater triumph, in England, 
than you have perhaps had anywhere else, and that is saying. 

1847.] TEE SEADOW. 43 

a great deal. And I know that I adhere to every word that 
I have ever said to you about it, in spite of Bunn, and 
Covent Garden, and their letters, and the newspaper articles 
that have at last become almost too laughable. But I hope 
most sincerely that Bunn, and Covent Garden — for, for the 
moment, they are one * — will not have the face to accept 
your offer, and to redeem the contract frbm you ; for what is 
worth more to them than any amount of monej^, is, not that 
you should sing for them, but that you should not sing for 
Lumley ; and therein lies the whole turmoil. 

" Still, I am quite sure that you will just simply do what 
is right ; and, resignmg yourself to the consequences, be very 
glad indeed that you have done right. Of what is politic, 
and clever, and exceedingly astute, I know nothing ; and 
you, also, will not care to know anything. And, as to what 
could, or should have been done, that is really not the 
question — if any question there be. And, apart from all 
this, what it is that disquiets and frightens you I cannot 
imagine. You know well, that you mean to do your duty ; 
and you may trust me so far as this, that it is very seldom 
indeed that the performance of a duty leads to such hap- 
piness and such friends as are awaiting you in England. 
You would, I am persuaded, behave just in the same way, if 
a host of enemies were waiting for you ; but, believe me, 
they will be friends. You will be borne on the shoulders of 
a whole nation — wliich is a nation indeed ! — and, in the end, 
you yourself will rejoice in it. 

" I am very unselfish in advising you thus ; for it appears 
to me very improbable that we shall meet in England. If I 
go there at all this year — which is still uncertain — I shall go 
from here in the beginning of April, and remain there only 
till the beginning of May. And you will hardly be in 
London before the beginning of May ? 

" I had pictured it all to myself so nicely : to show you 
some of my favourite places, and make you acquainted with 
two of my very particular friends there. But, if this may 
not be, we shall meet again soon, somewhere or other ; and I 
am confident that we shall meet again unaltered. 

* The directors of the rival Opera-company at Covent Garden Theatre 
purchased Mr. Bunn's contract, coupled with the right to use his name, if 
occasion required. See, ' Keminiscences of the Opera,' by B. Lumley. 
(London, 1864, p. 178). 

44 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. v. 

" Please let me know, soon, how you are ; and whether 
you can believe me, and can chase away the unrest, and 
bear me in remembrance. 

" Your friend, 

" Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy," 

A few points in this very important letter need some 

In connection with Mendelssohn's interview with Consul 

Arnemann,* we must here add, that that gentleman afterwards 

sent him a letter, which he had received from Mr. Edward 

Lewin — a friend of Mr. Lumley and Mdlle. Lind, then 

living in London — placing the difficulties of the case in so 

clear a light that we think it desirable to reproduce it, 

verbatim : — 

" London, March 1, 1847. 

" My deae Sie, 

" I am much gratified by your favour, of the 23rd ult, 
in which you are good enough to ask my opinion as to what 
our cherished friend Jenny Lind ought to do in reference to 
her professional engagements. And I really cannot doubt an 
instant, in stating the course which appears to me alike 
indicated by the consideration of her worldly interest and 
moral duty. 

" The Bunn affair is a mere trifle, magnified to suit the 
purpose of the Covent Garden party. Mdlle. Liud's peace 
and freedom need not be in the least disturbed by the threats 
of Mr. Bunn, or the representatives of his only momentary 
allies of Covent Garden. The friends of Miss Lind in 
England are indignant at the idea of her being frightened 
from paying them the visit they so ardently expect : and, 
from the moment she sets foot on our shore, every effort will 
be made to show her the protection and respect she so well 
deserves. But, so long as Mr. Bunn and his friends can keep 
her away, the real value and warmth of British feeling in her 
favour must remain unknown to her. 

" Since you are so kind as to address me on this subject, 
my dear sir, let me entreat you to throw your valuable 
influence into the scale, to induce Miss Lind without delay 

* See his letter of Feb. 19, 1847 (pp. 29-31.) 

1847.] THE SHADOW. 45 

to repair to London. Believe me, her best friends could 
never wish for a finer opportunity for a brilliant and 
certain success. 

" And every week she now lingers in Germany is dangerous. 
Mr. Lumley has undertaken every lialility on behalf of 
Mdlle. Lind in connection with Mr. Bunn, and will hold her 
harmless. But, he never could promise to deliver the Bunn 
contract into her hand : for Mr Bunn believes himself, by 
retaining it, to be able to deter her from coming— which is 
the greatest benefit to the Covent Garden party they can 
hope for— and their game has hitherto seemed but too 

" Lumley will, I believe, behave throughout in an honour- 
able and gentlemanly manner; and she will never repent 
having kept her word to him and saved him from a disastrous 

" With best compliments to Mrs. Arnemann,* 

"Edward Lewin." 

The views here expressed as to Mr. Bunn's powerlessness 
are fully borne out by the " Counsel's opinion " — including 
that of the Attorney-General — which had already been 
communicated to Mr. Lumley — himself an able lawyer — to 
the effect that : — 

(1.) " Supposing the contract to be a legal one, it would 
expose Mdlle. Lind to nothing farther than an 
action at law, with a claim for damages, in case of 
non-fulfilment of the engagement. 

(2.) "Supposing Mr. Bunn to have been unprepared to 
fulfil his part of the contract by producing the 
Opera, A CamjJ in Silesia, f we doubt whether a 
demand against Mdlle. Lind could be sustained ; 
but we believe that, in any case, nominal damages 
only could be obtained against her under those 

(3.) " Mdlle. Lind having failed to specify the time of her 
appearance at Drury Lane Theatre, Mr. Bunn 
ought himself to have fixed it, in accordance with 
the terms of the contract, and to have been 

* Transcribed by permissiou from the original letter. 

t See Mdlle. Lind's letter to Mr. Bunn, dated "Feb. 28, 1847," (pp, 46-47.) 

46 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. v. 

prepared to produce the Opera at that time. As 
it is, we are of opinion that the contract has been 
abandoned, on both sides. 
(4.) " We are of opinion that the ' Memoire ' really was a 
legal contract, though the question is not free 
from doubt." * 

This shows that Mdlle. Lind's terror was utterly groundless. 
But for her it had a fatal significance ; and she could not be 
persuaded that she had, in reality, nothing to fear, though, as 
we shall presently see, she was ready to purchase her 
immunity by an act of almost Quixotic generosity. 

And this leads us to the explanation of that passage in 
Mendelssohn's letter in which he expresses liis regret that 
she had offered Mr. Bunn " such a sum " for the contract. 

She had, in fact, sent Mr. Bunn the following letter : — 

« Vienna, Feb. 28, 1847. 

" Sir, 

" I have had the honour of receiving your letter of the 
19th of December, 1846, in which you pretend to have to 
claim from me damages for my non-arrival in 1845. 

" You are perfectly conversant with the reasons whicli 
prevented me from coming, and which rendered my appear- 
ance at your theatre impossible. Besides which, my arrival 
would have been fruitless, since you were neither in posses- 
sion of the English translation of the opera, Das Feldlager, 
nor the music I Avas engaged to sing.j 

" It is more than probable that this affair, brought before a 
court of justice, would bring you nothing ; but I am deter- 
mineel that you shall not tax me with bad faith, however 
little I may have merited this reproach, and I offer, in return 
for the delivery of the paper signed by me into the hands of 
the person. I shall name for that purpose, to pay you the sum 
of £2000 — two thousand pounds. % 

* Abridged from the original document, which is written in French. 

t See " Counsel's opinion," No. 2 (page 4.5.) 

X It will be remembered that the honorarium offered by Mr. Bunn to 
]\Idlle. Lind for the entire season at Drury Lane Theatre, amounted only 
to £800, and a benefit. 

1847.] THE SHADOW. 47 

"As I shall, in any case, come to London, I should prefer 
coming there with the consciousness of ha^^.ng done all that 
depended upon me ; and I leave you to consider whether you 
prefer this amicable arrangement to a law-suit, which will 
perhaps bring you nothing at all. 

"I have given all farther instructions to Mr. Edward 
Jennings, of 9, Chancery Lane. 

"Jenny Lind."* 

This proposal was delivered to Mr. Bunn by her 
solicitor, Mr. Jennings, accompanied by the following 
letter : — 

" 9 Chancery Lane, March 13, 1847. 

" Sir, 

" I am instructed by Mdlle. Jenny Lind to hand you 
the enclosed copy of a letter from that lady, at Vienna, the 
original of which remains in my hands, for your inspection. 

" Mdlle. Lind has voluntarily made this proposal, without 
assistance or advice from English lawyers, to purchase peace 
and escape litigation in a foreign land, and I am authorised 
immediately to carry it out. 

" The proposal is final ; and, if you accej)t it, I w^ill attend 
any appointment you make, and close the affair. On the 
other hand, if you object to it, or do not accept it on or before 
Tuesday next, I am instructed to appear and defend any suit 
you may think proper to institute against Mdlle. Lind, and 
request you to direct your solicitor to send any process 
against that lady to me for appearance and defence. 

" I have the honour to be, Sir, 

" Your obedient servant, 

" Edward Jennings." f 

To this commimication Mr. Bunn sent the following 
reply :— 

* Translated from the original correspondence, in French, as published 
in The Times for March 17, 1847. 

t Reprinted from Tlie Times, March 17, 1847. See also, ' Eeminiscences 
of the Opera,' by B. Lumley. (London, 1864, p. 178.) 

48 JENNY LIND. [bk. vi. ch. v. 

" 11 Fitzroy Square, Marcli 15, 1847. 
" SlE, 

" I beg to acknowledge the receipt of your letter, 
dated the 13 th instant ; and have only to observe that, on 
receiving the original letter from Mdlle. Lind (addressed to 
me), which you state to be in your hands, and of which you 
have enclosed me a copy, I will instantly reply to it. 

" I am your obedient servant, 

"A. BUNN."* 

In connection with this, the following statement was also 
made by Mr. Bunn : — 

" Mr. Jennings waited upon me, and showed me a letter,, 
not written by, but signed ' Jenny Lind,' which he refused 
to leave toitli me, although addressed to me. To that letter I 
have sent an answer, giving a negative to the professional 
points therein sought to be maintained ; but making a propo- 
sition, which, seeing Mdlle. Lind has that sense of ' dis- 
interestedness and good faith ' claimed for her, she will not 
hesitate to accept.f 

" As to the non-existence of any legal claim, from opinions 
alleged to have been given by the law-officers of the Crown, 
I beg to say I have acted upon the judgment of the first 
lawyers in England and Prussia, and feel assured that no 
such offer of £2,000 would be made, if their opinion as to the 
contract signed at Berlin, in the presence of the British 
Minister, were questionable." | 

This, then, was the state of the controversy, when Mdlle. 
Lind sang her last song, at Vienna, for the benefit of Dr. 
Becher, on the 8th of April, 1847. 

* Keprinted from The Times, March 17, 1847. 

t This proposition was, an offer to give up the contract, without 
pecuniary compensation, provided that Mdlle. Lind would consent to sing 
at Covent Garden, another year. This proposed engagement, however, 
she refused to accept, under any circumstances. (See the Illustrated 
London News, for March 20, 1847.) 

t lb. 

1847.] TEE SEADOW. 49 

"Wliile, on one side of the Channel, she was tormented 
with fears for her own personal safety, Mr. Lumley, on the 
other, was racked with anxiety, concerning the fate of Her 
Majesty's Theatre, which was literally hanging in the 
balance. "WTio shall say which of the two sufferers endured 
the greatest amount of mental torture ? 




( 53 ) 



Her Majesty's Theatre opened for the season on Tuesday, 
the 16th of February, 1847, amidst a sea of doubts and per- 
plexities which might well have appalled the most courageous 

Though it forms no part of our present purpose to record 
the disastrous cabals and suicidal intrigues that seem, un- 
happily, inseparable from the life of the theatrical manager 
" behind the scenes," it is necessary, for the clear understand- 
ing of our narrative, that the reader should be made ac- 
quainted with the results, at least, of the long series of 
disagreements which rendered the government of Her Ma- 
jesty's Theatre so peculiarly difficult, at the eventful period 
of which we are now treating. 

For many years past, the Lyric Stage had been ruled with 
a rod of iron, by a band of artists of world-wide reputation, 
who have been not inaptly described as the vieille garde of the 

The names of Mesdames Grisi and Persiani, of Signori 
Eubini, Tamburini, and Lablache, had become so justly cele- 
brated, throughout the length and breadth of Europe, and 
their influence had been so firmly established in London, 
Paris, and St. Petersburg, that no manager, however despotic, 
could resist their supreme will and pleasure with impunity. 
The retirement of Signer Eubini from the English stage, in 
1842, and, in 1844, from that of St. Petersburg, though it 

54 • JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. i. 

left an irreparable void in the artistic constitution of the 
" traditional Quintette,'' caused no x^erceptible diminution of 
its governing power ; for, no sooner did Signer Mario, the 
matchless Tenor's legitimate successor, find himself in un- 
disputed possession of the field, than he threw the whole 
weight of his rapidly-increasing prestige into the scale in 
favour of his colleagues, whenever it pleased them to wage 
war against a recalcitrant chief More than once, disputes 
of a very serious nature had arisen, at " the Great Theatre 
in the Haymarket," even under the mild and somewhat 
timorous rule of M. Laporte, who usually ended them by 
giving way with the best grace he could ;* and when, after 
the sudden death of that amiable gentleman, in 1842, the 
reins of government fell into the more powerful hands of 
Mr. Benjamin Lumley, a fiercer war than ever was waged 
between the high contending parties. The effect of former 
contests had been demoralizing, to the last degree, both upon 
the public, and the artist-world. All the persons concerned 
— except the luckless manager — had learned, from past 
experience, that, if they only clamoured loudly enough 
for what they wanted, they would find but little difficulty in 
obtaining it. Fortified by this assurance, artists of the highest 
rank openly refused to sing the parts assigned to them. When 
a capricious prima donna was out of temper, or a spoiled 
23rimo uomo fancied^ himself slighted, a "cold" was impro- 
vised for the occasion ; the Opera was unavoidably changed ; 
the disappointed audience hissed its just disapprobation in 
no uncertain temper ; and the pockets of the long-suffering 
lessee were rifled, to an extent that he could but too ill 

Against this state of things, Mr. Lumley protested, with 

* The history of the so-called " Tamburini riot," in 1841, so amusingly- 
sung by the Kev. T. Barham, in ' The Ingoldsby Legends,' is too well 
known to need recapitulation here. 


an energy that did him infinite credit, though he had to pay- 
dearly enough, in the long run, for his determination. 

A disagreement had long been impending, between the 
management, and Signor (afterwards Sir Michael) Costa, 
who had held the responsible office of Conductor, at Her 
Majesty's Theatre, for fully sixteen years.* The dispute 
reached its climax in 1846 ; Signor Costa resigned his ap- 
pointment; and the vacant post was offered to, and duly 
accepted by Mr. Balfe, who performed the onerous duties 
connected with it with masterly ability. But Mr. Balfe's 
fitness for the duties he had undertaken to perform was a 
question of very secondary interest in the eyes of the vieille 
garde, who, feeling themselves attacked in the person of 
their chef cVorchestre, seceded in a body from the company, 
and, with one notable exception, refused to renew their 
engagements. Signor Lablache — no less distinguished for 
his high sense of honour and integrity than for his magnificent 
voice and splendid artistic intelligence and bearing — alone 
remained faithful to the theatre which had been the scene of 
his most brilliant triumphs. Not only did he refuse to join 
the coalition ; but, from first to last, he did his best to prevent 
a rupture between the manager and his company. His kind 
offices, however, were thrown away. Mesdames Grisi and 
Persiani, and Signori Mario and Tamburini, threw up all con- 
nection with the " old house " ; engaged themselves to support 
a rival establishment, under the ostensible management of 
Signor Persiani — the husband of the fascinating singer; 
and, on Tuesday, the 6th of April, 1847, inaugurated the first 
season of the " Koyal Italian Opera," at Covent Garden, with 
a magnificent performance of Eossini's Semiramide, in which 
the principal parts were sustained by Madame Grisi, Signor 

* M. Laporte first engaged Signor Costa, as maestro al piano, at the 
then so-called " King's Theatre," in 1830. 

56 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. i. 

Tamburini, and Mdlle. Alboni, who, on that occasion, achieved 
her first great triumph in the presence of an English audience. 

It must be confessed, that, for the manager of Her Ma- 
jesty's Theatre, the situation was sufficiently embarrassing. 

This was not, indeed, the first occasion on which two rival 
Italian Opera Companies had coolly determined to do their 
best to ruin each other, in London. A crisis, precisely 
similar to this, had excited even greater attention, in 1733, 
when, on the 29th December, the so-called " Opera of the 
Nobility " opened its first season at the " Little Theatre in 
Lincoln's Inn Fields," with a performance of Porpora's 
Arianna, composed for the occasion, and supported by 
Cuzzoni, Senesino, and Montagnana, all of whom had seceded 
from Handel's company at the "King's Theatre in the 
Haymarket," to associate their fortunes with those of the 
rival establishment. Of all the famous singers whose triumph 
Handel had secured, Signora Strada alone remained faithful 
to him, as Signer Lablache remained faithful to Mr. Lumley. 
The coincidence was very remarkable. And, though the 
results of the movement were more quickly achieved in the 
eighteenth century, than they have been in the nineteenth, 
the speculation proved equally suicidal in both cases. 
Handel's Opera Company, and the " Opera of the Nobility," 
were simultaneously ruined, in 1737. And, at the moment at 
which we are now writing, those who are best entitled to form 
an opinion upon the subject entertain grave doubts as to the 
possibility of maintaining an Italian Opera Company on a 
firm and permanent basis, as in the good old time, at any 
theatre in London. We may have a brilliant, and even a 
remunerative season, from time to time ; but, since the disin- 
tegration of the common interest by the dissensions of which 
we have endeavoured to simplify the complicated and 
mysterious history, it has become, year by year, more difficult 
to provide a constant succession of performances of becoming 


excellence ; while performances such as those which were 
given regularly two or three times a week, before the secession 
of the memorable ' Quintette,' are no longer possible. 

Happily for the season of 1847, Mr. Lumley's energy, was 
never so well displayed as when he found himself in face of 
an apparently insurmountable difficulty. The threatening 
cloud — sombre enough, in the first instance, and growing 
daily darker and darker — was perhaps necessary for the full 
display of his managerial capabilities. Still, the prospect was 
very gloomy indeed. 

The season had opened — as we have said — on the 16th 
of February, with Donizetti's La Favorita, in which the prin- 
cipal parts were sustained by Madame Sanchioli, and Signori 
Gardoni, Super chi, and Bouche— the three last entirely new 
to the audience at Her JMajesty's Theatre. Between this, and 
the Easter recess, no performance of superlative excellence 
was possible ; and the attractions offered in competition with 
the brilliant performances at Covent Garden were quite in- 
sufficient to meet the pressing need of some great and soul- 
stirring excitement, to counterbalance the dangerous iwestige 
which the rival company were appropriating to themselves, 
in their new and commodious home. The only hope of 
the management lay in the first appearance of Jenny Lind. 

The troubled, but ever-sanguine manager had last heard 
of his long-desired prima donna at Vienna — where we our- 
selves left her, in the course of our narrative, tormented by 
doubts and anxieties in the midst of her most brilliant 
triumphs — longing, on the one hand, to fulfil her engage- 
ment in London, and encouraged, by her most trusted 
friends, to look forward to the attainment of successes, there, 
greater than any that she had elsewhere achieved — terrified, 
on the other, in her childlike simplicity, with visions of 
unmerited disgrace, of interminable law-suits, of ignoble 
arrests — nay ! who knows ! visions, perhaps, of nameless 

58 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. i. 

horror ; for no imaginable denoument seemed too wildly im- 
probable for credence, to a timid Artist, equally ignorant of 
the manners and customs of the country she was about to 
visit, and of the moral support commanded by her own 
brilliant and firmly-established reputation. 

Difficult as the situation was, no one for a moment doubted 
that the appearance of the new prima donna, at this critical 
moment, would save the theatre. Signer Lablache, whose 
judgment was not to be despised, had strongly urged the 
management to engage her ; and, some months previously, 
had addressed the following letter on the subject to Mr. 


" Naples, October 12, 1846. 

"Deae Mr. Lumley, — I learn, with much regret, from 
your last letter, that IMdlle. Lind finds some difficulty in 
coming to London. It is a great misfortune that this excel- 
lent artiste neither ^nows London, nor the exceptional 
position of your theatre for the coming year ; for, she will 
never find a more favourable moment for her interests, or her 
reputation. Try, then, to decide her ; and make her under- 
stand that she will find herself surrounded by brothers, and 
friends, and not by intriguing artistes, as is, unfortunately, 
too often the case. Her success is certain. I answer to you 
for it ; and you, who know me, will understand all that I am 
prepared to do, myself, to aid it. It is not only her immense 
reputation as an artiste, that gives me this conviction ; but, 
the good that is said of her, as a woman. I tell you, frankly, 
that I have been, as you know, the friend of Pasta, and the 
friend of Malibran ; and, that I shall be very proud to be able 
to say : ' I am the friend of Lind.' If you think it necessary, 
I will write a letter to her, myself; and, if she knows me, she 
cannot fail to put faith in my words. Forgive me, my dear 
Mr. Lumley, if I meddle with your affairs ; but, you know 
my device : ' Art, before all things.' Do not forget me ; and 
remember that you have ever in me, 

" Your wholly devoted 

"L. Lablache."* 

* The original letter, written in French, was sent to Mdlle. Lind by 
Mr. Lumley, who also forwarded a copy of it to Mendelssohn, 



That Signer Lablache was not the only competent autho- 
rity who felt certain of Mdlle. Lind's success, at this period, 
we have already seen from the letters of Mendelssohn. Other 
friends, too, did their best to reassure her ; but, though 
reasonable enough to an unprejudiced mind, their arguments 
failed to convince her, whose fears, indeed, the opposing 
party did its best to increase, by gravely warning her that 
she would never be able to reach the doors of Her Majesty's 
Theatre, unless guarded by a detachment of police. 

In the meantime, the position of the manager grew daily 
more and more distressing. Some of the leading journals 
had warmly espoused the cause of the Covent Garden specu- 
lators ; and the Morning Chronicle had carried the spirit of 
partisanship so far as openly to assert its disbelief in the ex- 
istence of any such engagement with the new prima donna 
as that announced in the manager's prospectus, or of any 
promise, on the part of Mendelssohn, to compose an Opera 
for her. These sinister reports naturally alarmed the sub- 
scribers ; and signs of discontent were apparent, on every 

At this critical juncture, Mr. Edward Lewin, who, from 
first to last, had been equally trusted by Mr. Lumley and 
Mdlle. Lind, volunteered a journey to Vienna, in the hope of 
proving to the latter that her apprehensions were groundless. 
The accounts he sent home were, however, so far from re- 
assuring, that the manager felt it his duty to undertake the 
journey himself. The step was a desperate one; for his 
presence in London could ill be spared, during a crisis in 
which the necessity for prompt and decisive action might 
occur at any moment. But the issue of the duel between 
the two rival Opera-Houses depended upon the success of liis 
project ; and, as was his wont, he proved himself equal to the 
occasion. Leaving the actual government of the theatre in 
the hands of a trusted subordinate, he secretly quitted his 

60 JENNY LIND. [bk. vn. ch. i. 

post, between the acts of the Opera, on the last night before 
the theatre closed for the Easter recess ; hurried away, in his 
evening dress, to catch the train for Calais, with barely half 
an hour to spare for all the preparations needed for his long 
journey ; and travelled, night and day, until he found himself 
face to face with the lady of whom he was in search, at Vienna. 
He was still on the Continent, when, on Saturday, the 10th of 
April — four days after the first performance at Covent Garden 
— the theatre re-opened, after the recess, with Verdi's / due 
Foscari, chiefly supported by Madame Montenegro (a Spanish 
debutante) and Signori Fraschini and Coletti. The perform- 
ance was a fairly good one ; but entirely failed to create a 
sensation, in face of the overwhelming attractions at the 
rival establishment. It was, in fact, the first of a series of 
" off nights," during which the company played to empty 
houses. The prospects for the future seemed darker than 
ever ; and those most deeply interested in the success of the 
spirited manager were driven almost to the verge of despair, 
when, on Friday, the 16th of April,* he had the satisfaction 
of returning to his duties in London, bringing with him the 
joyful intelligence, that Mdlle. Lind was actually on her way 
to England, under the escort of the friend to whose care he 
had confided her ; and that her arrival might be confidently 
expected on the following day. 

* Mr. Lumley, in his ' Reminiscences of the Opera,' speaks of his return 
as having taken place on the 15th of April. We shall see, later on, that 
this must have been an oversight, and that the date mentioned in the text 
must necessarily be the correct one. 

( 61 ) 



While the subscribers to the Opera were anxiously awaiting 
the arrival of the new _prwna donna, another section of the 
musical world was thrown into equal excitement by that 
of Mendelssohn, who, in response to an invitation from the 
Sacred Harmonic Society, came to London, for the tenth and 
last time, on the 12th of April, for the purpose of conducting 
four performances of his new Oratorio, Elijah, at Exeter 

The first of these performances (since become matter of 
history) was announced for Friday, 16th of April ; and on the 
afternoon of the following day, the great composer, knowing 
notliing of the negotiations which had been pending since the 
beginning of the week, called, by merest accident, on Mrs. 
Grote, who had invited Mdlle. Lind to be her guest at her 
town residence in Eccleston Street, until the house provided 
for her at the expense of the management was ready for her 

Delighted at the news he heard, Mendelssohn was easily 
persuaded to stay until his friend arrived, though the delay 
seemed interminable, as he and his hostess walked up and 
down the western side of Belgrave Square, keeping the door of 
the house in Eccleston Street from time to time in view, and 
eagerly watching for the appearance of the party. Their 
patience was severely tried ; for it may well be supposed that, 
even up to the last moment, they felt some not unnatural 

62 JENNY LIND. [bk, vii. ch. ii. 

anxiety as to the final issue of the event. But, after waiting 
three quarters of an hour, they were rewarded by the sight 
of two four-wheeled cabs, heavily laden with luggage ; and, 
hastening to the door, they lost no time in welcoming their 
friend to the country in which she was destined, ere long, to 
win a reputation more brilliant and lasting than that attained 
by any other singer of the period. 

Mdlle. Lind "looked scared and bewildered ; " but bright- 
ened visibly, under the influence of the hearty welcome with 
which she was greeted. No provision which hospitality could 
suggest, for her comfort, or that of her faithful companion, 
Louise Johansson, had been neglected. The tired travellers 
were promptly refreshed. Mendelssohn reluctantly took 
leave of the party, after a few minutes' conversation ; and, 
later in the evening, after an hour or two of the rest she so 
sorely needed, the honoured guest accompanied her host and 
hostess to their box at Her Majesty's Theatre — No. 48, on 
the Grand Tier.* 

At a moment when public expectation was so abnormally 
strained, it was impossible that the presence of the long- 
expected prima donna, in the most prominent part of the 
house, could long remain a secret to the hahitties of " Fop's 
Alley." t A few minutes after the arrival of the party, 
Mr. Lumley visited the box; and, later in the evening. 
Signer Lablache came to pay his respects to the great artiste 

* This visit to Her Majesty's Theatre is, alone, sufficient to prove the 
incorrectness of Mi-. Lumley's date. Had Mdlle. Lind arrived on the 
16th of April, she could not have gone, on the same evening, to the 
Opera, since the 16th fell on a Friday, which was not an " Opera night." 

t This was the name given, in the golden daj^s of Her Majesty's Theatre, 
to the vacant passage leading, from the entrance at the back of the pit, 
straight through its centre, to the back of the stalls ; a favourite lounge in 
which men of fashion were wont to congregate, between the acts of the 
Opera. When the Opera-House was rebuilt, after the disastrous fire of 
December the 6th, 186-1, Fop's Alley was sacrificed to a more lucrative 
arrangement of the seats. 

1847.] SUSPENSE. 63 

whose friendship he had so earnestly desired to gain. This 
naturally attracted attention ; and, after a little time, every 
inquisitive eye in the opposite boxes, every glance from the 
stalls, every lorgnette in the vast auditorium, was directed 
towards the box in which Mdlle, Lind was seated. She 
seemed, at first, very much disturbed. Moreover, the size of 
the salle — so much larger than that of the Opera-Houses at 
Berlin and Vienna — alarmed her seriously, though the manager 
assured her of the well-known fact, that its acoustic properties 
were perfect. However, as the evening wore on, she seemed 
to gain courage, and evidently took great interest in the per- 
formance, to which she listened attentively, throughout. The 
Opera presented on this particular evening was Bellini's 
/ Puritani, in which Signer Lablache sang the part he had 
long before made famous, in company with Madame Castellan, 
and Signori Gardoni and Coletti. This must have been doubly 
interesting to Mdlle. Lind, as she herself had never, as yet, 
sung the part of Elvira. But, though observing closely, she 
made no remark upon the details of the performance ; only 
once whispering to her hostess, " I think I can do as well 
as that, and perhaps a little better." * 

A few days after this, Mr. and Mrs. Grote gave a dinner- 
party, for the purpose of introducing their visitor to a few 
artistic friends who were particularly desirous to meet her. 
Among the guests were Mendelssohn, Lablache, and Mr. 
Lumley. In the evening, Mendelssohn sat down to the piano, 
and, after improvising for a few minutes, asked Mdlle. Lind 
to sing ' Auf Fltigeln des Gesanges,' the song in which she 
had created so profound a sensation in Leipzig. She willingly 
complied ; but, from sheer nervousness, broke down no less 
completely than she had done when singing ' Perche non ho ' 
to Garcia, in Paris. She afterwards explained, that it was 
the presence of Lablache that terrified her ; though he was 
* From Mrs. Grote's MS. Memoir. 

64 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. n. 

of course quite unconscious of this, and, with his never-failing 
good-nature, endeavoured to bring back her courage by sing- 
ing some of the amusing Neapolitan ' Canzonette ' in which 
his graceful humour was inimitable. Mendelssohn then 
played again ; and, afterwards, Mdlle. Lind, recovering her 
confidence, sang one of her characteristic Swedish melodies — 
the ' Tanzliccl aus Dalekarlien' — displaying her peculiar talent 
with such success, that the company were delighted, and 
Signor Lablache expressed his admiration with a warmth 
which rendered all dovibt as to its sincerity impossible. This 
was followed by some other songs, sung mth equal effect ; 
and the success of the "private hearing" was felt to be 

Still, the inexplicable dread of a public performance at the 
theatre remained as great as ever. Though Mendelssohn 
called, almost daily, to encourage his friend, she could neither 
be persuaded to make arrangements for a rehearsal, nor to 
seek an interview with the conductor — Mr. Balfe. So far as 
Mr. Lumley's prospects were concerned, matters were practi- 
cally no forwarder than he had felt them to be, before he 
undertook his hurried journey to Vienna. The situation 
grew, day by day, more difficult and embarrassing ; until, at 
last, Mdlle. Lind confessed to her hostess that her terrors 
were unconquered, and unconquerable, and begged her to 
intercede with Mr. Lumley for a withdrawal of the contract. 
The blow fell heavily ; but, the manager wisely determined 
to wait ; hoping that more mature consideration would 
induce her to recognise the necessity for fulfilling her 
engagement. And, the event proved that he was right. 

One day, soon afterwards, when the ladies were driving to- 
gether, Mdlle. Lind asked how the Opera was getting on. 
" Not at all," was the reply : " it is completely at a standstill. 
No one will take either a box, or a stall, in the present state 
of uncertainty. The public are waiting for your appearance ; 

1847.] SUSFIJNSE. 65 

and, in the mean time, the manager is losing money every 

The directness of this answer, every word of which was 
strictly and literally true, seemed to take her by surprise. 
She sat silent, until the carriage stopped at her friend's door ; 
and then, before alighting, said to her, '' If you see Mr. Lum- 
ley to-night, please tell him that I will attend at the theatre 
on Monday next." It happened, however, that she herself 
met Mr. Lumley, that evening, at a dinner-party at the house 
of Baron Eehusen, the Swedish ]\Iinister, and was thus able 
to deliver her own message to the delighted manager. The 
rehearsal took place on the day appointed ; and, from that 
moment, all hesitation was at an end. She entered, with the 
deepest interest, into the arrangements made for her approach- 
ins f?e5?( (5. Her habitual cheerfulness returned: the cloud 
was lifted from her mind ; and she seemed as if awakened 
from a horrible nightmare. At the rehearsals, which she at- 
tended with never-failing punctuality, she delighted the con- 
ductor, and excited the admiration of all who were associated 
with her in the performance, whether on the stage, or in the 
orchestra. She was in daily communication with the costumier, 
who prepared her dresses ; and studied her part — quite new 
to her in the Italian language — with untiring diligence. 
She had chosen the part of " Alice," in Roberto il Diavolo, 
for her first appearance ; partly, because it was one of her 
most successful roles, and also, because she felt that the 
circumstances connected with her first entrance uj)on the 
crowded stage, in the dress of a Pilgrim, with no important 
passages to sing until after the gradual departure of the 
chorus, would give her time to collect her energies, if — as she 
still feared might be the case — she felt in any degree nervous. 
Indeed, it would have been impossible for her to have chosen 
an Opera better fitted for the occasion. 

Poor Mr. Lumley, however, had troubles of his own, of 


66 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. ii. 

which she was carefully kept in ignorance, in order that her 
mind might remain quite undisturbed. 

He had spared no expense in mounting Meyerbeer's great 
work, which was new to the Italian stage. An authorised 
copy of the score was procured from Paris ; an Italian trans- 
lation had been carefully prepared ; new scenery had been 
painted, and new dresses made for the occasion ; and all was 
ready for the immediate production of the piece; when a 
messaoe was received from the Lord Chamberlain's of&ce, to 
the effect that it could not be licensed. Objections had been 
raised, w^ith regard to the extravagant character of the libretto. 
In answer to the manager's expostulations, Lord Spencer, the 
then Lord Chamberlain, said, during the course of a personal 
interview, " Why ! one might as well bring the devil and his 
horns on the stage, at once ! " " But, my Lord," said Mr. 
Lumley, "it has already been sung in London, in French, 
English, and German ; * and a melodrama, introducing all the 
incidents of the romantic story, was performed, at the Adelphi, 
shortly after its first production in Paris." The defence 
seemed unanswerable, since it proved that no previous Lord 
Chamberlain had ever demurred to the representation of the 
piece ; yet it was only through the intercession of the late 
Mr. Anson that the prohibition was removed.f However, the 
Lord Chamberlain yielded, at last ; and all was made ready 
for the appearance of the new prima donna (who, to the last, 
knew nothing of the difficulty that had been raised), on the 
4th of May. 

* Madame Stoeckel-Heinefetter, Hevr Ticliatschek, and Herr Staudigl, 
liad sung in the Opera, at Drury Lane, in 1841 ; and the great German 
Basso had made an immense success, in the part of Bertram. 

f It will be remembered, that Mendelssohn, in one of his well-known 
letters dated, " Paris, Jan. 11, 1832," makes some very severe remarks 
upon the libretto of Robert le D table. 

( 07 ) 



The excitement of the public, on Tuesday, the 4th of JNIay, 
1847, exceeded anything that had ever been witnessed by the 
oldest frequenter of Her Majesty's Theatre. 

From an early hour in the afternoon, the colonnade in the 
Haymarket was thronged by a crowd of ladies and gentle- 
men, in evening dress, waiting patiently to secure good places 
in the pit, which, though the seats were unnumbered, and 
could not be secured beforehand, was, in those days, a favou- 
rite and much-frequented part of the house, its area having 
been very slightly encroached upon, as yet, by the orchestra- 
stalls which were destined, ere long, to absorb it entirely. 

The file of carriages seemed interminable. When the doors 
were opened, at half-past seven, the crush was terrific. 
Ladies were fairly carried off their feet, and pressed against the 
barriers with a force which neither they nor their protectors 
had power to resist.* In a few minutes, the house was com- 
pletely filled. Neither in the pit, nor even in the " three- 
shilling gallery," could " standing-room " be found, at any 
price, for the disappointed applicants who continued to 
besiege the doors ; and many of those who had succeeded in 

* The writer well remembers having been thrown down, by the first 
rush, just within the entrance to the pit ; and, had it not been for the 
strong arm of a friendly giant, who, pushing back the crowd, succeeded in 
raising him from the ground, he would quite certainly have been trampled 
to death. 

F 2 

68 JENNT LIND. [bk. vn. ch. iii. 

effecting an entrance were wedged into corners from which 
the stage was invisible. The Queen, the Prince Consort, the 
Queen Dowager, and the Duchess of Kent, occupied the Eoyal 
boxes, to the left of the stage. Mendelssohn sat in the stalls, 
with his friend, Mr. CTrote. Mrs. Butler — better known as 
Miss Fanny Kemble — and Sir Charles Lemon, unable to 
secure places for themselves, enjoyed, by special invitation, 
the hospitality of " Number 48." And every corner of the 
house was crowded with the most brilliant representatives of 
the talent, the fashion, and the wealth of London. 

When the curtain rose, the excitement was indescribable ; 
and, a few minutes afterwards, Mdlle. Lind — dragged on the 
stage, in her pilgrim's dress, by the attendants of Eoberto — was 
received with the burst of applause, which, on the Continent, 
is usually delayed until the debutante has won her crown. 
She seemed both affected and surprised ; but soon recovered 
her self-possession. Her first phrases of ' musica jparlante ' 
down to the words ' Prence mio — mio Signore I ' were neces- 
sarily absorbed in the tumult of the scene. For some little 
time after the entrance of " Alice," the action is chiefly 
carried on by " Eoberto " and the chorus. This gave her 
time to collect herself ; and, when, left alone with the Prince, 
she told him that liis mother was no more — ' Conccsso, ah ! 
non ti fia, ne udirla, ne piu vedxrla. Ah ! non piu vive !' the 
expression of ineffable sadness with which she invested the 
touching words produced, from every part of the house, 
signs of admiration so genuine, that, though she had as yet 
sung no more than a few bars of the simplest and most 
unpretending recitative, it was clear to all present that 
her reputation was already assured. Then followed the 
well-known Aria d'entrata, ' Vanne, dissc, al fiylio mio,' 
which she sang in F *, with a depth of expression that com- 
pletely enthralled the audience ; and, after the final cadenza 
* It IS usually sung a semitone lower, in E. 

1847.] THE TRIUMPH, 69 

— beginning with a long-sustained C, in the upper register, 
and descending, thence, through some chromatic passages of 
exquisite purity, to the lower range, to ascend again to the 
shake preceding the upper F at the close — the applause rose 
to a veritable hurricane. 

From this point, to the final descent of the curtain, the 
performance was a succession of triumphs. The most 
experienced critics were taken by surprise, by the new prima 
donna's conception of the part of " Alice," exceeding, in 
poetic beauty, no less than in genuine dramatic power, the 
finest impersonation of the character that had hitherto been 
presented on the stage. Her sudden transition, in the third 
act, from the childlike simplicity of the little Norman 
peasant-girl, half jealous at the imaginary inconstancy of her 
humble lover, to the devoted courage of the woman who had 
vowed to rescue her Eoyal foster-brother from the toils of the 
Evil One ; the terror of the mysterious being whose secret she 
had surprised by listening to the unholy sounds that issued 
from the cavern ; her faith in the power of the wayside Cross 
to which she clung for protection ; her dread of involving her 
lover and her aged father in the destruction with which she 
herself was tlireatened by the Fiend ; all the stronger emotions 
successively called forth by the development of the situation, 
no less than the subordinate traits needed to unite them into 
a consistent whole, were delineated vnth a truthfulness that 
carried everything before it, reaching its natural climax in 
the Terzetto which immediately precedes the Finale to the 
fifth act — a scene which Mdlle. Lind made peculiarly her own, 
by singing the thrice-recurring phrase in B major, ' Somino 
Iddio che appicn coinprcndi, quale a lui sovrasti orrorl not in 
the cantahile style in which it is usually delivered, but, with 
a breathless eagerness which almost took away the hearer's 
breath as he listened to it. Many years afterwards, the 
writer ventured to remind Madame Goldschmidt that she had 

70 JENNY LINB. [bk. vn. cir. in. 

sung this passage with an expression with which he had 
never heard it invested by any other artist. " How could 1 
tell how I sang it ? " she said ; " I stood at the man's right 
hand, and the Fiend at his left, and all I could think of was, 
how to save him." 

It was this marvellous power of forgetting herself in the 
character she impersonated, that formed tlie basis of all 
her dramatic success. She once told Mr. Nassau Senior, 
who had questioned her on the subject, that it appeared 
to her a sort of fraud, if, when she was pretending to be 
" Alice," or " Lucia," she was thinking of herself. " I 
scarcely ever think of the effect I am producing," she said ; 
" and, if the thought does sometimes come across me, it spoils- 
my acting. It seems to me, when I act, that I feel fully all 
the emotions of the character I represent. I fancy myself— 
in fact, believe myself — to be in her situation ; and never 
think of the audience." 

The success of this method must have been evident to all 
who were present, on that eventful night, at Her Majesty's 
Theatre. Earely had such a triumph been chronicled, at the 
grand old Opera House in which so many triumphs have 
become matters of history. The curtain fell, amidst a storm 
of applause. Though the subordinate parts were excep- 
tionally well filled, by Madame Castellan, Signer Fraschini, 
Signer Gardoni, and Herr Staudigl ; and, though the great 
German Basso, in his favourite part of " Bertram," seconded 
the interpretation of every scene in which he and Alice 
were jointly engaged, with the intuitive perception of a 
consummate artist, not a thought was given to any one 
but the prima donna, who was called again and again 
before the curtain, with shouts of rapturous delight. 

Yet, true Artist that she was, she had made no attempt to 
secure the triumph for herself alone — to exalt her own part, 
at the expense of the general effect. Her reticence in the 

1847.] THE TRIUMPH. 71 

beautiful unaccompanied Trio in the third act was alone 
sufficient to prove this. Never once, throughout the entire 
movement, did she appropriate ro.ore than her own fair share 
of the concerted charm ; and so well was her feeling on this 
point understood by Signer Fraschini and Herr Staudigi, that 
critics who knew tlie piece by heart admitted that they had 
never before heard it sung in such absolute perfection. 

When the Opera was over, the Queen, who had repeatedly 
manifested her extreme satisfaction during the evening, 
expressed her admiration to Mr. Lumley, in a tone and 
manner that showed how deep an impression had been made 
upon her. " What a beautiful singer ! " " What an 
actress ! " " How charming ! " " How delightful ! " These 
were the exclamations that fell from the lips of Her 
Majesty, " whom," said the delighted manager, " I had 
never before seen thus moved to enthusiasm." * 

In describing this interesting conversation with Her 
jMajesty, we have been careful to repeat the exact words 
Tised by Mr. Lumley himself. 

But we have more to say. From a source of the highest 
authority,t we are enabled to confirm this account of the 
deep impression produced upon Her Majesty. The qualities 
of Mdlle. Lind's voice, at once delicate and powerful, round, 
soft, flexible, the charm of her appearance, her touching 
natural acting, and the grace of her movements, were all 
keenly appreciated by this accomplished musician and 
sensitive critic. Every one was struck by Mdlle. Lind's 
acting of the scene with Bertram, where she clung to the 
Cross as a divine safeguard ; but, the beautiful impulse, un- 
noticed by many, under which she fell down on her knees, 
during the concluding chorus, to give thanks for Eoberto's 

* Lumley's ' Reminiscences of the Opera.' (London, 1864, p. 185.) 
t Notes graciously furnished to us from Her Majesty's Diary, of which 
we have gratefully availe.l oiu'selves in subsequent parts of this Book. 



[bK. VII. CH. III. 

safety, did not escape the observation of the Queen, and drew 
from Her Majesty an expression of warm admiration. 

No one who was fortunate enouf^h to obtain a seat in Her 


Majesty's Theatre, on that memorable evening, can recall, un- 
moved, the pathos of the opening Aria, the bewitching sim- 
plicity of ' Ncl lasciar la Normandia,' or the profound artistic 
feeling displayed in the unaccompanied trio, and the last 


1847.] TEE TRIUMPH. to 

Pinale. The whole performance called forth one long-sustained 
ovation. Nothing was left to be desired. The audience was 
equally delighted with the voice, the manner, the action, the 
inimitable expression, and the perfect execution of every 
beautiful passage. To use Mr. Lumley's words, the debutante 
was at once established as " the favourite of the Opera-going 
public' * There could be no fear for the future, now, what- 
ever attractions the rival company might put forth. The 
management was saved ; for the triumph was as lasting as it 
was complete. 

The following paragraph ran the round of the newspapers 
a few days after the debut : — 

"An incident occurred at Her Majesty's Theatre, on 
Tuesday evening, illustrating in a remarkable manner the 
effect produced in the Eoyal box by Jenny Lind's trans- 
cendent talent on the night of her debut. When the 
fair oadatrice was summoned before the curtain, Her 
]\Iajesty cast a superb bouquet, which lay before her in the 
Eoyal box, at the feet of the debutante. The incident — 
certainly unparalleled on any former occasion in this country 
— was unobserved by the great majority of the audience ; but 
the gracious act of condescension did not escape the fair 
songstress, and a profound curtsey acknowledged the Eoyal 
recognition of her success." f 

Nor were the critics slow to do the new singer full 

On the Saturday following the performance, the leading 
London newspaper criticised it in terms which showed an 
intelligent and thoroughly artistic appreciation of its merits. 

"We have had frequent experience of the excitement 
appertaining to ' first nights,' but we may safely say, and our 
experience will be backed by several hundreds of Her 

* B. Lumley, in op. cit. 

t Quoted from tlie John Bull, in the Times for May 10, 1847. 
Cf. vol. i. p. 398. 

74 JENNY LIND. [bk. vn. ch. hi. 

]\Iajesty's subjects, that we never witnessed such a scene of 
enthusiasm as that displayed last niglit on the occasion of 
]Mdlle. Jenny Lind's debut as ' Alice,' in an Italian version of 
Robert Ic Diable. 

" In the first place, there was the crowd outside the theatre, 
the interminable string of carriages, and the mob which filled 
the piazza in the Haymarket, anxious to see the passengers 
alio-ht. Then, within the theatre, there was the entrance of 
Her Majesty, who, in coming to patronise the young vocalist, 
was welcomed with enthusiasm, as if she had visited the 
theatre in state. Then — great event ! — Mdlle. Jenny Lind 
herself appeared, attired in pilgrim's garb. The uproar which 
followed her entrance was something to be rememberetl, not 
described. The whole crowded mass displayed a power ot 
lungs truly astounding, and hats and handkerchiefs waved 
from all parts. It was not like the encouragement given to 
a debiitantc, but the welcome given to an established favourite 
— the declaration of an existing sympathy. 

" All this enthusiasm was displayed before Mdlle. Jenny 
Lind had sung a note. To an artist conscious of mediocrity, 
or of weak nerve, this proof that expectations were raised to 
the highest pitch would have proved embarrassing. The 
question was forced upon her : — ' Can I come up to this 
ideal standard ? ' For a moment, Mdlle. Lind was a little 
overcome by her immense reception ; but it was for a moment 
only, and as a singer and an actress she had perfect posses- 
sion of all her powers, throughout the evening. 

" If the expectations were great, we must say that they 
were more than realised. The delicious quality of the organ 
— the rich gushing tone — was something entirely new and 
fresh. The auditors did not know what to make of it. They 
had heard singers over and over again, but here, that wondrous 
thing, a new sensation, was actually created. The sustained 
notes, swelling with full richness, and fading down to the 
softest j9ia72o, without losing one iota of their quality, being 
delicious when loud, delicious when whispered, dwelt in the 
public ear, and reposed in the public heart. The shake, 
mezza voce, with which she concluded the pretty air, ' Quand 
je quittais la Normandic' was perfectly wonderful from its 
rapidity and equality. This air was rapturously encored, 
with the most enthusiastic wavin^ of hats and handkerchiefs. 
Even the way in which she uttered the first two or three 
notes of her Eomance, ' Va dit-clle,' so completely took the 

1847.] THE TIUUMPIL 75 

audience by surprise, that they interrupted lier progress, and 
forced her to stop, by their tumultuous applause. 

" While Mdlle. Lind raised her audience to enthusiasm by 
the exquisite nature of iier organ, and her perfect execution, 
the impression she made as an actress was no less profound. 
There is no conventionality about her — no seizing the strong 
points of a character, and letting the rest dro]). She acts 
thoroughly, with a perfect naturalness, and an infinite variety 
of gesture. All seems dictated by the moment, and yet all is 
graceful. There is no stereotyped form for love, or anger, or 
what not, but all has the impulse of immediate insjiration. 
As striking points, we may mention the clinging to the cross 
when attacked by Bertram, and the expression of rapture, 
just before the final descent of the curtain, when she feels 
that she has saved Eobert from perdition. Her whole con- 
ception of Alice is a fine histrionic study, of which every 
feature is equally good. 

" On the fall of the curtain, the burst of applause showed 
that the expectations of the audience had Ijeen more than 
realised. Three distinct times was Mdlle. Lind called upon 
the stage ; and it was with a certain hearty ' one cheer 
more ' sort of feeling which we have never seen so strongly 
manifested." * 

Another journal, well known for the fairness of its artistic 
criticisms, has the following : — 

" It is barely possible," says the musical correspondent of 
the Illustrated London News, " to do justice to the effect pro- 
duced on ourselves, in common with the concourse of persons 
assembled on Tuesday and Thursday f nights at Her Majesty's 

" We have arrived at a new stage of our theatrical experi- 
ence. A new perception of musical art has burst upon us ; it 
is as though we now learned, for the first time, what singing 
really is, and have been, with all our fancied knowledge and 
taste, groping, till now, in darkness and error. The trich of 
the voice, the well-prepared bursts, the artistic effects which we 
have hitherto applauded to the skies, are discovered to be 
only so many mistakes, and artists appear to have been 
labouring, all their lives, to attain that which they were better 
without. We have learned, that the best way to tread the 
stage is, to seem wholly devoid of theatrical art ; the best way 

* From The Time;^, JiTay 5, 1847. 

t The loerformance was rcpeateil, on Tliursday, ]\Iay 6th. 

76 JEN^Y LIND. [bk. vii. ch. hi. 

to sing is, to appear never to have learned. All convention- 
alisms are overthrown, all traditions of the operatic stage 
turned into contempt — and, by what ? By the appearance of 
Mdlle. Jenny Lind at Her Majesty's Theatre. 

" An excitement almost unparalleled in theatrical annals 
has prevailed as to the appearance of the Swedish ccmtatricc. 
The highest expectations were formed ; while, on the other 
hand, there was a fear — not an unnatural one — that she could 
not equal her immense reputation, or come up to the ideal 
of those with whom she had been, for so long a period, the 
topic of conversation, and the object of extraordinary interest. 

" This fear was proved to be groundless. Jenny Lind has 
surpassed all expectation, because it had been impossible to 
be prepared for something so startlingly new — so unlike all 
we have heard before. Each one, it is true, formed his own 
idea of the vocalist ; yet this always bore a certain resem- 
blance to some by-gone favourite, or to some existing 'prima 
donna. Most people expected, indeed, a marvellous su- 
periority, in degree, but were unprepared for the superiority 
in kind of talent which she possesses. 

" To have attained the perfect control over her voice — that 
faultlessness, purity, and delicacy of execution that she pos- 
sesses — Mdlle. Lind must have studied arduously ; but, to 
such profit have been her studies, that there is nothing in her 
singing to remind one of them. Everything she does appears 
spontaneous — and yet, there is never a fault. The same 
thing is remarkable in her acting. Every movement seems 
the impulse of the moment ; yet, not for a second does she 
lose sight of the identity of the character she impersonates — 
not for a moment are her gestures otherwise than expressive, 
;ind graceful. Art, hy her, has been only used to cultivate 
Nature — not for a moment to disguise it. Were it even 
possible to detect a flaw in the voice, or a slip in the execu- 
tion of Jenny Lind, her singing would still be resistless ; for, 
it reaches the heart, and touches the deepest chords of human 
leeling ; but she has, perhaps, never a weak moment. At the 
instant the listener, from the habit of hearing other artists, 
expects the voice to become weak and fatigued — at that 
moment it bursts forth in greater beauty than ever. Her 
voice is astonishing. To the fullest, purest, sweetest tone 
imaginable, it unites a vibrating and penetrating quality, 
that makes its softest whisper audible, no matter where the 
listener is seated, and that, when exerted to its 'full extent. 

1847.] THE TRIUMPH. 77 

is truly glorious ; and it may be distinctly heard above the 
loudest din of the orchestra, and of the voices of the other 

"We are not afraid of being considered extravagant in 
our praise, at least by those who have witnessed Mdlle. 
Lind's performances ; for, the delight of hearing something 
so new, and so natural, has taken the most phlegmatic by 
storm. Seldom has any theatre presented such a scene of 
excitement and enthusiasm as Her Majesty's, on the night 
of her debut. Her reception was overpowering. That said 
much for the fame that had preceded her ; and also, we 
think, for the universal good-will which Mdlle. Lind, as an 
individual, has succeeded in inspiring. The feeling of 
enthusiasm, warmed, as it was, by the shrinking, timid 
attitude of the young artist, as she was led forward to receive 
such an unusual welcome, continued unabated all the time 
that she remained upon the stage, showing that public expec- 
tation, after being raised so high, was fully gratified, and even 

" We never heard anything more delicious than the sus- 
tained notes which commence her first cavatina, ' Vanne, 
disse al figlio mio,' * full, clear, and bell-like, and then dying 
off to the faintest whisper. This song was interrupted by a 
thunder of applause, above which, however, could be heard 
the stentorian brava of the great Lablache, who. after sitting- 
immovable in his box, like one entranced, suddenly jumped 
up, as if unable to control his feelings, and applauded 

" The charming little romance ' jS/'el lasciar la Normandia,' ^ 
was even more rapturously applauded, each verse being 
encored. At the conclusion of the last, she gave the roulade, 
a plcinc voix, limpid, pure, and deliciously sweet ; and 
finished with a shake, so delicately, so softly executed, that 
each one held his breath to listen, and the tumult of applause 
at the conclusion baffles description. 

"The scene with 'Bertram' was magnificently executed. 
Her passion of terror was natiu'e itself ; and the last act, in 
which she struggles to rescue ' lloberto ' from the clutches of 
' Bertram,' as a specimen of dramatic power, was beyond all 

"The house presented, at the conclusion, such a sceue as 

* ' Va dit-elle,^ in the original French libretto. 
t Fr. ' Quand je qniffais la Normandie.' 

78 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. cii. hi. 

has been rarely witnessed. Tlie crowded mass, waving hats 
and handkerchiefs, stamping, knocking, shouting, and endea- 
vouring in every possible manner to express its delight, called 
the vocalist three times before the curtain, with an enthusiasm 
we have never seen surpassed, and yet which was no more 
than deserved. 

" On Thursday, Roberto il Diavolo was repeated ; and 
]\Idlle. Lind's reception was even more enthusiastic than on 
Tuesday, The theatre was crowded to excess ; and the 
stru^cles to cjain admission were tremendous. The audience, 
during the evening, repeatedly testified its delight by rising, 
en masse, by the waving of handkerchiefs, and by the most 
ecstatic applause. Her INIajesty, for the second time, 
honoured the performance with her presence." * 

We have quoted this critique at length, in preference to 
many others equally enthusiastic, because the attitude of the 
Illustrated London News towards the rival Italian Opera 
Companies was marked by a strict impartiality which some 
other journals, of equally high repute, were very far from 
imitating. When a fine performance took place at Co vent 
Garden — where fine performances took place continually — 
the Illustrated London News was always the first to do it full 
justice ; and its warm appreciation of the talent displayed by 
Mdlle. Alboni, Mesdames Grisi and Persiani, and Signori 
Mario, Tamburini, and Eonconi, may be fairly accepted as a 
guarantee that its glowing account of the first appearance of 
Jenny Lind was dictated by no contemptible outburst of 
party spirit, but, by a real admiration for true genius, and an 
intelligent and artistic recognition of the merits it was so 
prompt to discern, and so ready to estimate at their just 
value, without the exhibition of favour, on the one hand, or 
prejudice, on the other. 

* From the Illustrated London News, Saturday, May 8, 1847. 

. ( 79 ) 


AT C L A I E V I L L E. 

Some little time before her first appearance, while the 
rehearsals were still in progress, Mademoiselle Lind quitted 
the residence of her friend, in Eccleston Street, to take 
possession of a detached cottage, pleasantly situated, in its 
own grounds, at Old Brompton. It will be remembered that, 
by the terms of her contract with Mr. Lumley, she was to be 
provided with a furnished residence, at the expense of the 
management ; and, of all the houses she had seen, " Clairville 
Cottage," as it was then called, was the only one that seemed 
to please her. Though small and unpretending, it was both 
comfortable, and convenient ; it was within a moderate drive 
of the theatre ; and the neighbourhood in which it stood^ — ■ 
now absorbed in the new district of South Kensington — was 
sufficiently retired to ensure the privacy which, indeed, 
formed one of its principal attractions. 

All the old houses in this part of Old Brompton have long- 
since been pulled down ; and the actual site of Clairville 
Cottage and its pretty suburban garden is now occupied by 
one of the more modern and much larger residences in 
Brechin Place, the ground on which it stood forming part 
of a quadrangle, bounded by Brechin Place on its northern 
and southern sides, by the Gloucester Ptoad, on its eastern 
side, and on that towards the west, by Piosary Gardens. 

But, though all trace of the cottage itself has vanished, 
its name is perpetuated, in somewhat dubious orthography. 

80 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. cit. iv. 

in Clareville Grove — a road leading northwards from a spot 
near its former site — and a relic of the garden still 
remains, in the form of a tall and handsome j)lane tree, 
overhanging the Old Brompton Eoad, in front of Brechin 
Place, and vigorously flourishing within two minutes' walk 
of the house in which Madame Goldschmidt spent the last 
twelve years of her life. It was a less splendid tree, in 1847, 
than it is now, but she loved it all the more, for the birds 
sang there, undisturbed, among the branches from which the 
busy traffic of the road has now banished them. 

Here, within full view of this well-beloved tree, and an 
equally-beloved magnolia, while all London was wild with 
curiosity to peer into the minutest details of her private 
life, the " Swedish Nightingale " — as all the world now de- 
lighted in calling her — passed her time in almost monastic 
seclusion, diligently employed in the study of her new 
parts, and visited only by a select circle of intimate and 
sympathetic friends, whose society afforded her far greater 
and more genuine pleasure than she could ever have found 
in the gay and fashionable world that w^as vainly striving to 
intrude upon her solitude, and employing every cunning device 
that ingenuity could suggest to attract her within its vo-rtex. 

Never before had ^jm?ia donna created so profound a 
sensation among all classes of society. The annals of the 
Drama contain no record of a parallel case — a case, in which 
the name of a singer became so suddenly, and so universally 
popular, not only among the frequenters of the theatre, but 
among the masses who had never heard her sing ; among 
thousands upon thousands who had never witnessed the 
performance of an Opera in their lives, and who, if they had 
been compelled to listen to one, would not in the least have 
understood what it all meant. In every mouth, the name of 
" The Swedish Nightingale " was " familiar as a household 
word." It is not too much to say that all London was raving 


about her — and not all London only ; for " the Jenny Lind 
fever," as some of the more vulgar organs of the Press 
affected to call it, extended to the remotest corner of the 
Kingdom. Portraits of " The Swedish Nightingale " were 
sold on snuff-boxes, on match-boxes, on bon-bon boxes, 
on tea-boards, and even on pocket-handkerchiefs. Horses, 
and dogs, and cats, and singing-birds, were named after 
her; and little children, in the simplicity of theu" hearts, 
gave the popular title to the creatures that were dearest to 
them in the world. 

We have before us, as we write, a rough " broadside," printed, 
on commonest paper, with worn-out type, by " F. Hodges, 
from Pitts, Wholesale Toy and Marbel Warehouse, 
31 Dudley Street, Seven Dials," and headed, in huge 
capitals : — 


At the top of a double column of verses is a rude woodcut, 
possibly meant, on tliis occasion to represent a ballad-singer, 
though it had no doubt done duty, many a time and oft, in 
bygone days, for something else ; and thus begin the 
rhymes : — 

" Oil ! is there not a pretty fuss 

In London all around, 
About the Swedish Nightingale, 

The talk of all the town ? 
Each Square and Street, as through you pass, 

Aloud with praises ring, . 
About this prettj' singing bird. 

The famous Jenny Lind. 


" For she turns each heart, and turns each head, 

Of those who hear her sing, 
And she is turning all her notes to gold 

Is famous Jenny Lind." 


82 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. iv. 

Eidit stanzas of this execrable nonsense fill up the sheet, 
which we should not care to notice, were it not an liistorical 
fact that such sheets were sold, and such verses sung, in 
the by-streets of London, from morning till night. 

Night after night, the colonnade in front of the theatre was 
literally thronged by the crowds that waited patiently, for 
hours, to gain admittance ; and, when the doors were opened 
at last, a host of eager enthusiasts forgot even the duties of 
courtesy, in their mad desire to force an early entrance at any 
cost. The newspapers of the day described " wild scenes of 
crushing, and crowding, and squeezing ; of torn dresses, and 
evening coats reduced to rags ; of ladies fainting in the 
pressure ; and even of gentlemen carried out senseless. The 
struggle for entrance was violent beyond all precedent — so 
violent, indeed, that the term ' a Jenny Lind crush ' became 
a proverb." * 

Mr. Albert Smith, the well-known humourist and lecturer 
on Mont Blanc, has contributed to the literature of the period 
a chapter, describing the scenes at the pit-door, and illustrated 
by a series of sketches, depicting the adventures of "Mr. 
Straggles," who, appearing first, in all the glories of irre- 
proachable evening costume, passes, afterwards, through a 
succession of changes which cause him to figure, in the final 
tableau, with his dress coat torn open from top to bottom, 
the bow of his cravat protruding behind his neck, his lorgnette 
crushed beneath a fellow-enthusiast's foot, and his 'gibus' — 
represented in six successive stages of deterioration — reduced 
to a wiry skeleton.! We are able to testify, from our own 
experience, that the picture is not overdraAvn ; but the dis- 
comfort — not to say danger — of the nightly struggle, deterred 
no one from taking part in it, and seemed rather to increase 
than to diminish the pleasurable sensations of the evening. 

* B. Lumley, in op. cit. 

t See, the Illustrated London Neivs for May 8, 1847. 

1847.] AT CLAIRVILLE. 83 

And, in the meantime, the innocent source of all this 
fuiious excitement pursued the even tenour of her way ; 
working diligently, not for fame, or popularity, but for Art ; 
and withdrawing, as far as it was possible for her to do so, 
from the world in which she had become so great a celebrity. 
She was absolutely unaffected by the adulation lavished upon 
her ; as modest, as gentle, as thoughtful for others, as con- 
scientious in her endeavour to do justice to the music she 
sang, as she had been in the early days of her student-life. 

Between nine and ten o'clock, on the morning after her 
debut, she appeared in Eccleston Street, before her friend had 
risen ; and sat by her bed-side, " with a radiant countenance," 
discussing the events of the previous evening. 

" Are you content with last night ? " asked Mrs. Grote. 

" More than content," she replied. " What a fine public ! " 

On the same day, she wrote to her friend, Frau von 
Jaeger, at A^ienna * : — 

" London, .5th of Ma}', 1847. 

" Deakest Mothek, 

" It is high time that I should send you a word ; and, 
first of all, that I should thank you for all that you have 
done for me, and for all your good ad\'ice, and assure you 
that I shall nsver forget anything, and that my sincere love 
for you, and for all of you, will remain, through all the time to 
come, the only recompense that one can give to another, in 
exchange for such sympathy and friendship as I have received 
from you. 

" You well know that I cannot express what I feel. If I 
could, then many many words would follow. But, I feel my 
own weakness ; and say, only, ' Thank you, beloved Mother, 
for the second most beautiful three months in my life ! ' The 
first were those I spent with the Wichmanns in the previous 
winter. These six months have been the happiest for me, 
and I can offer you no better word than ' Thanks ! ' But, T 
must thank my dear sister also, for having always been so 
kind to me. That she was never jealous is a proof of the 
goodness of her heart. My father was — my father ! I love 

* See Book V,, Chapter x. 

Cx 2 

84 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. it. 

him, too, as if I were really his daughter. And Fritz can 
also say whether I have been as a sister to him, or not. There, 
then, you have my confession of love : and, if we do not see 
each other again, for fifty years, time can never change my 

" Dear Mother ! What else have I to tell you ! Perhaps 
you expect to hear that I have lost my personal freedom, or 
somethiuG; of that sort ? Hon Dieu ! Hon Dicu ! How 
splendidly has everything gone with me ! — the journey 
included ! 

" Yesterday, the 4th of May, I made my first appearance 
here, as ' Alice,' in Robert — and it went so, that, through the 
whole night, I could not sleep, for joy ! To my astonishment, 
I found the English public in the highest degree sympathetic 
and intelligent ; and yesterday evening was grand. From the 
Queen, down to the scene-shifters, all here have been good to 
me, and so friendly, that I do not feel in the least like a 
stranger — and this says a great deal, for I am ever thinking of 
Vienna. Everything has gone with me ten thousand times 
better than I expected ; and I have neither seen, nor heard, 
anything about Mr. Bunn. I think he will institute a law- 
suit — only, his position in the matter has taken such a comical 
turn, that I am almost beginning to feel sorry for him. 

" Lablache has been so good to me, that I feel quite moved. 
He behaves as no one but a great Artist like himself could 
behave. Lumley's attention, and friendliness, are not to be 
doubted, and make me hope that my mother, and many others, 
have been mistaken in him. I hear so much about him — and 
it all pleases me. But, more about this in the future, if he 
always acts as he is acting now. 

"Louise was so frightened, yesterday, about my first 
appearance, that she has a headache which confines her to bed. 
But she sends you hearty greetings. But, my calmness was 
quite wonderful! What a joy, to be able so to conquer 
one's five senses ! How can I ever sufficiently thank God 
for it, ]\Iother ! 

" We live most delightfully, rather far from the city, where 
all is still and restful, the air splendid, and a garden in which 
the birds are singing the whole day long. And the trees are 
so fresh and green. I have a house all to myself, and a first- 
rate man-servant, who speaks German, and an Englishwoman 
who does the other work of the house — Lennie, and his 
sister, and her husband, who are everything that is good to 

1847.] AT CLAIM VILLE. 85 

me. Friendly faces, wherever I look. So, you see, mother, 
that I want for nothing. 

" I think so much of Vienna. I feel certain that it will not 
be long before I once more visit the Imperial City. It is too 
dear to me ; and Germany is my second Fatherland, and 
Vienna, my favourite home. 

" But I must leave off now ; for I believe some people 
are cominsj to congratulate me. 

" I have one thing to beg of you, mother. Do you 
personally know the Countess Schonborn ? Ah ! Go to her, 
and tell her, and her sister, the Countess Euenburg, that I 
send them my best remembrances, and have ever the liveliest 
recollection of their kindness to me. And tell them how well 
everything has gone with me. I know it will interest the 
two Countesses, to hear this ; and I will soon write to them, 
myself, about it. Tell them this. 

" And I beg my good Herr Julius Pechvill to call upon 
my good Signor Battaglia, and to tell Mm that my Italian 
pronunciation has been so successful, that Lablache was quite 
astonished at it. 

" And now farewell ! farewell ! Eemember me to all — all 
who are yours, and all who are not yours. With joy, and 
thankful love, tliinks of you all 

" Your daughter, 

" Jenxy. 

" Will my mother, or Augusta, soon write to me ? I long 
so for news of you all." * 

To Judge ]\Iunthe she wrote, five days later : — 

" London, May 10th, 1817. 

"It is always a pleasure to write to my good guardian 
and fatherlike friend ; but, this time, I write with a lighter 
heart than usual, because I have succeeded so well in this 
my last undertaking, which was, to make my way here in 
London, in spite of all the difficulties and intrigues that 
people have tried to throw in my way. 

" I appeared, as ' Alice,' in Bohcrto il Diavolo, on the -Ith 
of this month, and I cannot describe the sympathy and 

* Translated by permission, from the original letter, in the possession 
of Fraulein Jaeger von Jaxthal. 

86 JENNT LIND. [bk. vii. ch. iv. 

enthusiasm with which I was received — and, to my astonish- 
ment, well understood ! 

" I am so happy, and find things so pleasant, that there 
is perhaps no being under the sun so happy as I." 

It is pleasant to see, that, by this time, the dark shadow 
had so completely lost its terrors that it could be mentioned 
even with playfulness ; and, that poor Mr. Bunn's position 
had become so " comical " as almost to inspire a feeling of 
sorrow for him. And it is pleasant, too, to find that, notwith- 
standing the sinister influence exercised by that dark shadow 
in Vienna, it had not been dark enough to cloud the 
happiness, or sadden the memory of the bright sojourn in 
the Austrian Capital — a sojourn so fraught with tender 
recollections, that it could be looked back upon with longing, 
even in the midst of a still more hearty and affectionate 
reception in London. A letter, written to ]\Iadame Birch- 
PfeifFer, on Thursday, the 6th of May — two days after the 
debut — contains a still more touching allusion to Vienna than 
that addressed to Trau von Jaeger, and speaks so pleasantly 
of London, and its climate, and inhabitants, that its contents 
can scarcely fail to interest the reader. 

"London, the 6th of May, 1847. 

" Good Mother, 

" It is a long long time since I have heard anything 
from you ; and I am longing earnestly for news, 

" You must not be angry with me for writing so little to 
you from Vienna. For, my only excuse is, that I was simply 
torn to pieces, there. 

" But, you are ever in my heart, as of old, good mother and 

" The day before yesterday, I made my first appearance here, 
at the Italian Opera, as ' Alice ' in Bohert, and 7ievcr, perhaps, 
liave things gone better with me, in every way, than here. 
What do you say to that ? 

" I am so glad, so happy, so thankful, that I hardly know 
what I am doing. 

1847.] AT CLAIRVILLE. 87 

" The theatre is splendid, and I have never been in such 
good voice. The climate is — for me, at least — very good ; 
and, apart from all this, I am so glad, because every one here 
is so friendly to me that I am quite touched. 

" Lablache is like a father to me ; and Mr. Lumley, like a 
good and true old friend. 

" So, you see, I want for nothing ; and I hope I may soon 
hear the same about you, dear Mother. 

" Many waves have passed over our lives, since we last saw 
each other — but, we will talk about that, by word of mouth, 
for I am coming to Berlin, in the autumn. 

" Are you going to Vienna ? If so, remember me to Herr 
Pokorny and his amiable wife, and my other friends ; and tell 
them that I thank them, from my heart, for all their kindness 
to me. 

" And to the Imperial City, say, amidst the still silence, 
that there lives a maiden, born in Sweden, who would gladly 
call Vienna the City of Her Fathers. Oh ! my Vienna ! 
Oh ! my Viennese ! Oh ! my heart swells, when I think of 
all that happened to me, there ! 

" In siucerest love and gratitude, I remain, for all time, 

" Your 

" Jenny Lind. 

"P.S. ]My address is — Old Brompton, ClairviUe Cottage, 
London." * 

Never, in any of her former letters, had the " maiden, born 
in Sweden" spoken so warmly as this, of her love for the 
" Imperial City." We knew that she had found firm and 
devoted friends there ; but we did not know, till now, how 
deep an impression they had left upon her mind. Vienna 
had, indeed, proved itself well worthy of her love. As she 
herself had told the Viennese, when they called her before 
the curtain, they had " understood " her. And now, already, 
the Londoners had " understood " her, too — " understood " her 
so well, that they were doing all that in them lay, to win her 

* From Frau von Hillern's collection. 

88 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. iv. 

deep affection, as the Austrians had won it before them. And 
they won it, loyally and bravely. She had a heart large 
enough to make room for all who truly loved the Art of which 
she herself was so devoted a worshipper; and she gave as 
freely, and as largely, as she had received — gave, not to the 
public only, but to every true and earnest spirit, capable of 
appreciating, at however great a distance, the spirit by wdiich 
she herself was animated, in her heroic endeavour to advance 
the work she had undertaken, in her attempt to raise the 
Operatic Stage to the highest level she believed it capable of 
attaining, in spite of every adverse influence that was brought 
to bear upon it by the ever-changing vagaries of the popular 
taste, or by the half-hearted work of artists who weighed 
their oAvn interests in the balance against those of Art itself. 
To all who really loved the Art to which lier life was devoted, 
she ga\ e, whether in public or in private, the best she had to 


In a letter written to her from Leipzig, soon after her 
engagement at Her Majesty's Theatre had been finally ratified, 
Mendelssohn had asked her, when she visited London, to 
sing to a friend of his, who had long been laid upon a bed of 
sickness.* This lady was Mrs. Seth Thompson, the daughter 
of the well-known Organist and Glee Composer, Mr. William 
Horsley, Well knowing how dearly Mrs. Thompson would 
prize such an act of kindness, Mendelssohn, as the time 
approached, sent her the following letter : — 

" Leipzig, 19tli January, 1847. 

"My dear deae Feiend, 

" Some weeks ago I intended to write you a long letter, 
l)ut, just then Madame Moscheles returned from Hamburg, 
bringing the news that you were again suffering, and I could 
not then make up my mind to begin, but hoped from day 
to day for better news. Thanks to God, they have come to- 
day, from Klingemann. He tells me that you are mucli better ; 

* See page 10. 

1847.] AT CLAIRVILLE. 89 

and I sit down at once, in the joy of my heart, at my 
little Carl's writing desk, and wish above everything 
that the letter may reach you at a good and cheerful 

" I have two special subjects to write to you about, though 
no special reason would be necessary — but I have two. I 
have, namely, to announce to you one of the most glorious 
works of art ever achieved by the brush (I am the brush !), 
a landscape which I have painted for you, and which is so 
beautiful tliat one might take the earth for heaven, and the 
reverse. My own composition — a fantastic convent, in 
cheerful early dawn ; a cloudless heaven ; some bushes ; some 
distant mountains (^^Tetchedly coloured) ; an impenetrable 
wood (too green) ; a ruin (too brown) ; a cross by a pathway ; 
and something besides to be seen in it. Since I have 
promised to send you a picture, it must needs be grand ; and 
it has become so. Very shortly a parcel will be sent off to 
Klingemann and I shall pack tliis up in it. But do not lose 
this description, otherwise you might be unable to guess 
what it represents. 

" I wanted first to announce this picture to you ; and then 
something even better — namely, Jenny Lind. You showed 
so much interest in her before, and wished so much to make 
her acquaintance, that I determined to write to you imme- 
diately it was decided that she would come to London, and 
give you that pleasure. Now, however, I am too late, as I 
hear it is generally known; but this you do not yet know, 
that I have made it a condition that she should not be long 
in London without coming to Seymour Street, and singing 
you all her songs, and then you will hear her better than the 
whole public in the Theatre. 

" That she will punctually do this, and call as soon as she 
arrives, I do not in the least doubt. I only wish I could be 
present and accompany on your little ' pony ' when she 
sings you her Swedish songs, or hear you both tallying 
together — which would be better than the Swedish 
songs, etc., etc. And I am not quite without hope that this 
may come to pass, as I have a very great desire this spring 
to come to London, for some weeks. True, it is not certain 
yet, but I wish it very much, and therefore I fancy it will 
happen. Cecile would certainly come too, and then you 
must invite us, and the Klingemanns, and Jenny Lind 
together, and then we shall be happy ; and I will put three 

90 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. iv. 

pieces of American ice into my wine, and make a ' speech,' 
in spite of its not being quite the right thing. 

"But, first of all, your health must improve more and 
more. I could have had no greater joy to-day than 
Klingemann's good report. I trust another will soon come 
quite as good, or rather still better ! 

" We are all well here, and think of you with the most 
hearty friendship. Cecile joins me in greeting you and your 
dear husband, many thousand times ; and 

" I am, and ever remain, 

" Your friend, 

"Felix Mendelssohn Baktholdy."* 

The remembrance of Mdlle. Lind's visit to the invalid lady, 
and of the songs with which she cheered and comforted her, is 
still affectionately cherished by her family, and that of 
Mr. Horsley. It was not the first time that she had given 
of her best to cheer a bed of sickness — as we have already 
seen, in Copenhagen — nor was it destined to be the last, by 
very many. Whenever the opportunity for such an act of 
kindness presented itself, she was ready to take advantage of 
it ; and many a grateful heart remembered her, in the distant 
towns through which she passed. 

But what a change had passed over her life, within the last 
few weeks ! How different her thoughts, now, and at the 
moment at which she took leave of her Austrian friends. 
She had conquered her fears, and was already reaping the 
rich reward of her moral victory. The fate of Her Majesty's 
Theatre no longer hum:; in the balance. She had saved its 
Manager from ruin. For the remainder of the season, the 
position of the " Old Italian Opera " was impregnable ; and 
she alone had made it so. All doubts as to her reception by 

* Translated from the original letter, kindly furnished by one of Mrs. 
Seth Thompson's nephews. 

1847.] AT CLAIRVILLE. 91 

an English audience had been set at rest. The dread, the 
suspense, the cruel threats that had caused her such torments 
of anxiety, had vanished like a dream. Eor a time, at least, 
the " sable cloud " had " turned forth its silver lining on the 
night " ; and all around was light, and joy, and peace, and 
hope for the happy future. 

92 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. v. 



From this time forward Mdlle. Lind was greeted in London, 
by all classes of society, with the most flattering marks of 
esteem and admiration. " The Queen received her with 
marked attention. The Queen-Dowager invited her to 
visit Her Majesty in private. The Dulve of Wellington was 
most sedulous in his demonstrations of respect and admira- 
tion, and, on one occasion, invited her to his country-seat, 
promising that music should form no topic of the conver- 
sation." * Invitations poured in, from every side, in num- 
bers which it would have been quite impossible for her to 
have accepted, even had her time been entirely at her own 
disposal. But, though compelled by her duties at the theatre 
to devote so many hours of the day to study and rehearsal, 
she did not entirely shut herself out from the pleasures of 
society. Mrs. Grote, who accompanied her one evening to a 
private concert at Lansdowne House to which she had 
been invited as an auditor, gives an interesting account of the 
excitement caused by her first appearance in the reception- 
room, when, at the moment of her entrance, all other visitors 
were forgotten, in the desire to meet her with a cordial 

" I was not a little amused," she says, " to observe the 
Duke of Wellington approach, with the intention of making 

* Lumley, ' Eeminiscences of the Opera,' page 188. 

1847.] "LA SONNAMBULAr 93 

his bow to Lady Lansdowne ; but, finding it hopeless to catch 
her attention — so engrossed was she with Mdlle. Lind — he 
quietly passed unnoticed into the Sculpture Gallery, where a 
vocal concert was about to commence. I at length proposed 
to Jenny that we should take our places there, also ; and we 
soon found ourselves in the middle of a brilliant company, 
whose eyes were frequently bent in the direction of our seats. 
Jenny, who was always very impatient under this kind of 
scrutiny, felt vexed at it ; but there was no escape. The 
concert proceeded ; the artists comprising all the ' stars ' of 
the two rival houses, herself only excepted. The first part 
over, I was besieged by persons of my acquaintance, with 
requests to be introduced to Mdlle. Lind : Lady Pembroke, 
and her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Sidney Herbert, Lady Lincoln, 
with one or two other ladies obtained the privilege, and con- 
tinued to talk to her, until Jenny, impatient to escape, whis- 
pered to me, ' Let us go and look at the pictures.' So 
we went into the rooms through which we had entered, 
and looked at the pictures, which interested her far more than 
the music. Meanwhile, the concert had re-commenced, so 
that we could not resume our places conveniently ; accord- 
ingly Jenny begged me to go away, which we presently did. 
As we drove home to Clairville, I expressed myself highly 
satisfied with the flattering attentions of which she had Ijeen 
the object during the evening. She rejoined: 'Dear Madame, 
you are much more proud for me than I am for myself. It 
certainly was a splendid sight ; but I would rather have 
been rambling with you amohg the Burnham beeches, after 
aU.' " * 

The rambles under the fine old Burnham beech trees, near 
Mr. Grote's country-house, furnished, indeed, a pleasant and 
highly needful relief to the fatigues of the season, which were 
very trying indeed. 

No one, unacquainted with the routine of the " business of 
the stage " can form an adequate idea of the amount of actual 
labour devolving upon the principal performers, during the 
preparation of a new Opera, or the revival of an old one. 
However familiar each one may be, with the details of his or 

* From Mrs. Grote's MS. Memoir. 

94 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. v_ 

her own part, the difficulties connected with the tout ensemble, 
in the case of artists who have not previously sung together 
in the work, are as great as if every scene were a new one. 
Of course no such difficulty arose with regard to the second 
and tliird performances of Boherto, for which all concerned 
werQ already fully prepared, and the success of which fully 
equalled — if it did not even exceed — that of the previous 
Tuesday. But, with La Sonnamhula, announced for perform- 
ance on Tuesday, the 13th, the case was different. All the 
performers, from " Elvino," and the " Count," down to the 
humblest singer in the chorus, knew their own parts, by 
heart ; but, not one of them knew what to expect, with regard 
to the new interpretation of the i^ole of " Amina." Yet, with 
that interpretation, it was indispensable that all -the rest 
should be, in the highest degree, ai rapport ; and, by dint of 
careful and laborious rehearsal, under Mr. Balfe's experienced 
and sympathetic hdton, so close a sympathy was established 
between the " readings " given by all the artists concerned to 
their various parts, that the result left nothing to he desired. 

Never, perhaps, was Mdlle. Lind's detestation of all that 
bore the stamp of unreality more strongly marked than in 
this charming Opera. She could not endure a sham — though, 
the temptation to do so, here, must have been very great. 

In the last act of La Sonnamhula, Amina, walking in 
her sleep, crosses a crazy wooden bridge, spanning a mill- 
stream, and hanging in the air, directly over a revolving water- 
wheel. As she reaches the middle of this frail structure, the 
worm-eaten planks give way — or rather, by an ingenious 
stage-device, appear to give way — beneath her feet. She 
starts — lets the lamp she holds in her hand fall into the 
stream — and then, without awaking, calmly proceeds on her 
way, down a rude flight of steps, to the front of the stage, 
where, taking from her bosom the faded flowers that Elvino 
has given to her, she sings the beautiful air, * ' Ah ! non 




credea mirarti,' which forms one of the most attractive move- 
ments of the Finale. 

The danger of crossing the mimic bridge is, perhaps, less 
real than apparent, when proper precautions are taken to 
ensure the singer's safety. But, it is a dangerous walk, for a 
nervous 2yrima donna ; and very few of our greatest singers 
have ever attempted it. The usual plan is, to dress up a poor 

little " supernumerary " in clothes exactly like those of the 
real representative of " Amina " ; to let her perform the 
perilous feat of crossing the bridge; and, after she has 
dropped her lamp, and displaced some of the loose stones 
lying at the edge of her path, to let her pass behind a project- 
ing piece of rock, arranged for the purpose, and there change 
places with the real [prima donna, who emerges on the oppo- 

96 JENNY LINT). [bk. vii. ch. v. 

site side of the cunningly-constructed screen, and is supx30sed, 
by the audience, to have performed the entire journey in her 
own proper person. 

But Mdlle. Lind would never consent to cheat her audience 
thus. She once told the writer, when conversing with him on 
the events of that memorable time, that she had never, in her 
life, let any one cross the bridge for her — not because she was 
more courageous than other representatives of the village 
somnambulist; for, she confessed to having been horribly 
frightened, every time that she had to undergo the trying 
ordeal— but because, she said, " I should have been ashamed 
to stand before the audience, pretending that I had crossed 
the bridge, if I had not really done it." 

So, the boards were marked with chalk, to show the exact 
lines between which Amina was to walk; and a circle 
was drawn, at the spot at which the bridge was to give way 
beneath her, so that she might not be taken unprepared. 
But, these precautions formed a less efficient safeguard than 
might have been imagined ; for, she had heard that somnambu- 
lists always walked straight forward, without looking at their 
feet, and she risked a fall, night after night, in order that 
she might act her part with perfect truth to nature.* 

But her nervous fears did not prevent her from singing 
her best ; for, during the course of the same conversation, 
she told the writer, that, accidentally looking down at Mr. 
Balfe, while she was singing ' Ah I non crcdea' she saw that 
his face was bathed in tears. And he, we may be sure, was 
not the only listener thus moved by her rendering of that 
most lovely movement — one of the purest and most touchingly 
plaintive strains of melody that the modern Italian School 
has produced. Who, among those who heard her sing that 

* Mdlle. von Zandt — to her honour be it recorded— crossed the bridge, 
at Covent Garden Theatre, in 1889, exactly as Mdlle. Lind had crossed 
that at Her Majesty's Theatre, forty years previously. 

1847.] "LA SONNAMBULAr 97 

night, does not still remember, mth undiminished emotion, 
her infinitely pathetic delivery of the beautiful phrase in 
C major, ' Potria novel vigor e ? ' Who does not cherish 
still the recollection of that wonderful shake on the D sharp, 
jpianissimo, more like a tremulous whisper from the far-off 
dreamland in wliich the peasant maiden is supposed to be 
wandering, than an artistic grace introduced into the per- 
formance of a well-known song ? Such music as that, 
once heard by those who have a heart to feel it, can never 
be forgotten. 

We have already, in a former chapter, quoted the opinion 
of a thoughtful German critic upon her impersonation 
of this charming role, when it was first presented in Berlin. 
There is no lack of English critiques, written in language 
equally warm and enthusiastic. We will not, however, weary 
our readers by recapitulating opinions which are, in many 
points, absolutely identical, and which they can read for 
themselves, in the journals of the period ; but will content 
ourselves with setting before them one notice only, selected 
from the abundant repertoire at our command ; and, if any 
among them have thought the language of the Vossische 
Zeitung exaggerated, they will certainly not think that of the 
Times less so. 

" On the first night of Mdlle. Lind's appearance in Rolert 
le Diahle, we thought we had seen the extent to which the 
excitement of a theatrical audience could go. We found we 
were mistaken. The enthusiasm produced by her ' Alice ' 
was not to be compared \vith that which she created, last 
night, by her ' Amina ' in La Sonnamlula. 

"Her very appearance showed that she had taken an 
original view of the part. The costume, and way of wearino- 
it, conveyed a new impression. A simplicity, almost to 
childishness, is at once assumed, and admirably preserved 
throughout. The spectator feels that innocence is written in 
the very aspect of the young creature, and that she is not a 
being about whom any doubt can be entertained. Venturing, 

VOL. n. H 

98 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. v. 

as she does, into the highest regions of vocalisation, she never 
loses sight of this simplicity of character, which gives the 
tone to her whole performance. The air, Sovi^a il sen, 
took the audience by storm. The boldness and truth with 
which she treated her intervals was marvellous. Her 
delicious pianissimo thrilled to the heart, while the whole 
effect was heightened by a dramatic passage executed to 

" Great anxiety was felt as to how she would render the 
chamber-scene. She did it to perfection, still retaining the 
simplicity of manner, which she infused into the character, 
amidst the most violent heart-rending despair. During the 
first few moments after she had risen from the couch, she 
seemed scarcely to have returned to consciousness. Half 
scared at the multitude, she cast around enquiring, wondering 
glances, in the most natural manner possible. The truth at last 
revealed itself to her ; but with the full knowledge that she 
was suspected came the full sense of innocence, and the 
finale D'un pcnsicro, was given with a firmness of tone that 
argued Amina's sense of her own right. The struggle 
with Elviuo, at the close of this finale, was given with the 
resoluteness of one who feels that all happiness depends 
upon the possession of that single object — that, if the lover 
is lost, the whole world becomes a blank. Nothing could 
surpass the intensity with which she held him; and, 
when he broke from her struggles, she fell, corpse-like, from 

" We describe the action only. It would be in vain to 
set forth how all the emotions of the situation were repre- 
sented by the vocalist — to indicate the variety of expression 
given by that wonderful organ. The last scene abounded in 
new beauties. The mournfuluess of manner and tone with 
which the young girl held the flowers at the air, ' Ah ! non 
credea mirarti,' and the lengthened 2^^((''^'i'Ssimo passages, in 
which the voice seemed to fade away through the heart's 
sorrow, were indescribably touching. ' Ah non giunge ' was an 
inspiration — the sudden exultation of innocence in its own 
triumph. The voice soared grandly and fully through the 
charming melody, and the ornaments were executed with a 
joyous fidelity, the impulse causing an oblivion of the 

" The curtain fell, leaving the audience in a state of 
sympathising rapture. An encore w&s at once demanded. 

1847.] "LA SONNAMBULAr 99 

Up rose the curtain again, and the finale was sung, if possible, 
more charmingly than ever. 

" Then came an unprecedented scene of excitement. The 
pit rose, in a body ! Never was triumph more complete." * 

No one witnessed Mdlle. Lind's first performance of 
* Amina ' with more rapt attention than the Queen. She 
was there from the beginning. The ' Come per me sereow,' 
with its brilliant opportunities for showing off the voice, was 
a little too full of ornament altogether to satisfy Her Majesty's 
taste ; but she expressed unbounded admiration of all that 
followed, dwelling strongly, according to our information,! 
upon " the exquisite shake, the wonderful clear, sweet 2nano 
way of singing in the very highest tones, without losing any 
of their fulness and freshness." The ' So7i gdoso ' and ' Prcndi 
I'anel' were felt to be full of a new beauty. But a charm, 
as exquisite, as it was novel, was recognised by the Eoyal 
listener in the soft, touching, half-whisperedt tones in which 
' Amina ' sang in the scene where she enters the Count's apart- 
ment asleep. Again, the dignified way in which she 
delivered in the subsequent scene the words, ' Bea own sono, 
no, la fui giammai ' giving as it did the idea of complete 
innocence, was noted as exceptionally fine. In this, as 
indeed throughout the whole performance, the singer was 
recognised by the Queen as speaking from the heart to the 

Great and sympathetic artist as he was, Lablache could 
not fail to see in Mdlle. Lind the true dramatic instinct 
without which the finest voice may charm the ear, but cannot 
penetrate the heart. Her acting he pronounced to be orioinal, 
and unlike that of anyone else, as, indeed, great acting always 
will be. Of her singing of the Eecitative and Adagio, " Ah ! 

' From the Times, May 14, 1847. 
t See note f, p. 71, ante. 

H 2 

100 JENNY LINT). [bk. vii. ch. v. 

non credea mirarti" he said to the Queen, " Jc dots dire que je 
nai jamais rien entendu comme cela." In this opinion, accord- 
ing to our information, Her Majesty heartily concurred. She 
was present, along with the Prince Consort, when La Son- 
namhida was performed for the second time on Saturday the 
15th of May. All Her Majesty's first impressions were more 
than confirmed. She spoke with enthusiasm as Lablache 
had done of the ' Ah, non ercdca.' " It was all piano," she 
said, " and clear and sweet, and like the sighing of a zephyr, 
yet all heard. Who could describe those long notes, drawn 
out till they quite melt away, that shake wliich becomes 
softer and softer, those very piano and flute-like notes — and 
those round fresh tones wliich are so youthful ? " * 

Who, among that crowd of enthusiastic listeners, did not 
feel as Signor Lablache did, on that delightful evening? 
Who had ever heard or seen anything like it ? To an 
English, no less than to a Continental audience. La Sonnam- 
hula had ever been welcome. The refreshing simplicity of 
its plot, its triumphant vindication of insulted innocence, its 
striking contrast to the passionate, and too often impure 
libretti of so many modern Operas, had made it a special 
favourite in this country, ever since its first production, at 
Her Majesty's Theatre, in 1831, with Madame Pasta in the 
principal part ; and the nameless charm with which that part 
was now invested, the enchantment thrown over it by the 
perfection of Mdlle. Lind's vocalisation and the pathetic truth- 
fulness of her acting, the indescribable purity in which it was 
clothed, throughout, by her ideal interpretation of each change 
and phase of sentiment, each touch of maiden modesty, each 
shade of delicate expression that aided the delineation of 
Amina's gentle character and rendered its impersonation 

* See the note f already referred to on page 71. * Ah ! non credea,^ 
with Mdlle. Liud's emhellishments, will be found, entire, in our Appendix 
of Music, at the end of the present volume. 

1847.] "LA SONNAMBULA." 101 

more life-like and complete, seemed to make the work a 
greater favourite than ever. The audience were never tired 
of it. New beauties were observed, at every fresh perform- 
ance. Throughout the season, it was given, again and again, 
with the certainty of a crowded house, and a triumphant 
success ; and it was not until after its fourth performance, in 
alternation with four performances of Roberto il Diavolo, that 
the management thought it necessary to announce the pro- 
duction of another Opera. 

102 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. n. 



The new Opera was one entirely unknown, at that time, in 
England ; though we have had occasion to mention it, more 
than once, in connection with other countries, during the 
course of our narrative. 

It will be remembered, that during Mdlle, Lind's short but 
serious illness, at Berlin, in February, 1845, Die Begi- 
mcntstochtcr had been presented, with Eraulein Tuczec in the 
principal part. 

Before that time, Mdlle. Lind herself had never under- 
taken the part of " Marie " ; but, as we have already seen, 
she appeared in it, at Stockholm, on the 9th of June, 1845, 
with such success, that the Opera was redemanded on every 
remaining night but one of the summer season — in all, eight 
times.* Since then, it had become a special favourite, in 
almost every to^vn she visited ; and, though the critics of 
Berlin had not yet had an opportunity of passing their verdict 
upon it, it had created an absolute furm^e, both at Munich 
and in Vienna. It remained, now, to test its capability of 
attracting the sympathies of an English audience, already 
predisposed to regard it \vith favour ; and, if it were possible 
to invent a stronger word than fxirmx for the purpose of 
describing the result of the experiment, such a word would 
certainly not be misj)laced. 

* See Vol. i., p. 264. 


The history of the work is, in some respects, an exceptional 
one. It was first produced, in Paris, at the Opera Comique, 
on the 11th of February, 1840 ; and soon became popular, 
not only in France, where light music is always acceptable, 
but in Germany also, where its memory can, even now, 
be scarcely said to have entirely died out. In England, 
however, it has so long been forgotten, that a sketch of its 
plot will probably be not unwelcome to the present gene- 
ration of subscribers to the Opera. 

The scene of the story is laid in the Tyrol, during the time 
of its occupation by the French. The heroine is a foundling, 
named Maria, who, in her infancy, had been saved from 
perishing on a deserted battle-field by Sulpizio, a Sergeant 
in the 11th Eegiment of Buonaparte's grande armee. Touched 
by the helpless innocence and forlorn position of his trouvaille, 
the worthy veteran had presented the child to his Eegiment, 
which had formally adopted her as its daughter. Since that 
time, she had never been separated from it. She had accom- 
panied it, through all its campaigns ; and, some time before 
her introduction to the audience, had been invested with the 
office of a Vivandiere, in which character she makes her first 
appearance on the stage. 

At the time the story opens, Maria, while fulfilling her 
duties with the Eegiment in the Tyrol, has just been saved 
from falling over a precipice, by a young peasant named 
Tonio, who naturally falls in love with her, and is rejoiced 
to find liis affection returned. The Eegiment, however, re- 
fuses its consent to the union of the lovers ; and threatens to 
have Tonio shot, as a spy, if he perseveres in his suit. He 
does persevere ; and the Eegiment, relenting, consents to his 
union with Maria, on condition of his joining the Eegi- 
ment as a recruit. To this he agrees. But, at this juncture, 
a certain Marchesa di Lauffen appears upon the scene; 
and Sulpizio remembers that a letter addressed to tliis lady 

104 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. vi. 

was found upon the cliild, when he first discovered her. As 
in duty bound he delivers this letter to the MarcMoness, who 
then discovers — or pretends to discover — that Maria is 
her niece; the daughter of her sister, who had married a 
Captain in the French army. Upon the strength of this dis- 
covery, she claims the guardianship of the child ; and, at the 
close of the First Act, takes her away, to be educated as a 
grande dame. 

The Second Act opens, four years later, at the Castello di 
Lauffen, where the Marchesa, sitting at the pianoforte, is 
giving Maria a singing-lesson, which is grievously inter- 
rupted by the sly tricks of Sulpizio, who, in the midst of 
a slow air by Paisiello, tempts his adopted child to break off 
into the merry songs of the Eegiment. Drums and trumpets 
are now heard, approaching the castle ; and, Tonio, who 
has been promoted to the rank of Captain, presently 
makes his appearance, at the head of his company, and 
demands the hand of Maria. The Marchesa refuses her 
consent; and, when Maria denies her right to interfere, 
explains that she is really the girl's mother; that she 
was, in fact, the wife, and not the sister-in-law, of the 
Captain who had addressed the letter to her, when dying 
on the battle-field ; and that she had only misrepresented her 
true relationship to him, in order to conceal a mesalliance 
which offended her family pride. On hearing this, Maria 
yields to the higher duty of obedience ; and this proof of 
filial devotion so touches the heart of the Marchesa, that 
she consents to the union of the lovers, and thus brings the 
story to the usual happy conclusion. 

Upon this poor pointless plot — elaborated by the combined 
genius of MM. Bayard and S. Georges— Donizetti risked his 
first attempt to captivate a Parisian audience: and the 
success of the experiment was incontestable. The piece was 
welcomed as warmly as if it had proceeded from the pen of 


a native composer ; and it retained its place upon tlie stage 
far lonffer than is usual in such cases. 

It was not a great work — nor did it pose as one ; and it 
certainly did not show the composer at his lest. But it 
furnished a remarkable proof of the versatility of his talent. 
Forsaking, in obedience to the demands of the occasion, the 
vein of passionate melody that had always been his strongest 
point — the most attractive feature in the best and most 
popular of his Italian operas — he plunged, at once, into the 
lighter strains with which aU Paris had been for so many years 
familiar at the Opera Comique and in the popular Vaudeville, 
and showed himself as much at home in that as he had for- 
merly been in the more melodious and expressive style of 
his earlier works. And it was this new style, relieved by 
the sprightly grace and sparkling vivacity which formed 
part of his nature in his lighter moments, that, in the first 
instance, invested La Fille du Regiment with its chief, if not 
its only charm. 

This bright and captivating quality forms a prominent, 
and particularly pleasing feature, in the overture ; which is 
not a mere unmeaning prelude, as in so many light pieces of 
the modern school, but a real overture, in the popular 
French style of the period ; constructed in fairly regular 
form ; using, for its subjects, some of the best and most 
pleasing themes in the opera ; and blending these together 
in such sort as to awake the listener's interest, even before 
the rising of the curtain, and, if his taste should happen to 
lie in the direction of light and sparkling music, to give him 
real pleasure. 

But, the work betrays no higher aim than this ; no true 
nobility of purpose ; no trace of poetical inspiration, in any one 
of its scenes, from first to last. Its best melodies, its rattling 
Eataplan, its graceful Tyrolese, are trifling to the last degree. 
It left the hands of its creator, a body, without a soul. 

106 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. vi. 

How then, it may fairly be asked, did Mdlle. Lind succeed 
it making it one of the most charming and deservedly 
popular of her parts ? How could she, whose ideal con- 
ceptions were so lofty that she invested the parts of " Norma," 
and " Amina," and " Alice," and " Julia," with a depth of 
meaning which had never before been associated with them — 
whose genius raised the dignity of every character she im- 
personated to a level it had never previously attained — who 
clothed every scene she enacted with poetry, and lent a new 
nobility to every personal characteristic she delineated — how 
could an Artist capable of all this, and more, find a fitting 
subject for the exercise of her admittedly exceptional powers, 
in the scenes of La Fujlia dd Rrggimcnto ? 

The question is a very natural one — and the answer 
equally so. 

She breathed a living soul into the form that had left the 
laboratory of its inventors without one. The soul of a bright 
little maiden, who, amidst the altogether exceptional temp- 
tations by which she had been surrounded from her infancy, 
had kept herself unspotted from the world — the soul of an 
honest-hearted merry-minded Vivandierc, whose childlike 
innocence, and unsullied reputation, had won the reverence, 
as well as the affection, of the rude soldiers to whom she 
owed all that she had in the world ; a girl with a loving 
heart, and a dauntless spirit, and a sense of duty strong 
enough to impel her, in the end, to give up all that could 
have made her life happy, at the call of filial piety. 
This was the character she substituted for the jointed 
lay-figure, the soulless automaton, embodied in the score. 
This was her Fillc du Regiment, as opposed to the Fillc du 
Regiment of the Opera Comique — her ideal conception of a 
real Vivandierc, conforming in all external particulars to the 
famiKar type, but never conventional, never commonplace, 
for the simple reason that it was never untrue to nature. 


And, in her impersonation of this bewitching little heroine 
the whole interest of the Opera was absorbed. She did not — 
as the critics would have said — content herself wdth " creating 
the role of ' Maria ' ;" she " created " the whole work. No 
one gave a thought to the other members of the dramatis 
jycrsonoj. The piece was absolutely devoid of attraction, 
when she was absent from the stage. But, the moment she 
appeared she held her audience spell-bound. The artless 
simplicity of her manner ; the pretty mocking ways ; the 
captivating honJwiiiic ; the frank acceptance of a difficult 
situation which the slightest trace of self-consciousness or 
affectation would have marred ; all this formed an attraction 
absolutely irresistible. And then, the fire of the soldier- 
songs 1 The pathos of the parting scene at the close of the 
first act ! The long succession of brilliant passages, the diffi- 
culties of which might well have appalled the greatest singers 
living ! These artistic achievements certainly did not count 
for nothing, when the merits of the performance came to 
be weighed in the balance. Throughout the whole of the 
First Act the impersonation of the little soldier-maid was 
marked by the truest, the most natural simplicity. In the 
duet with Sulpizio, the fiery ' A2oparvi alia htcc,' breaking, 
in the coda, into the characteristic rataplan, she was all 
life and excitement ; and the swelling pride with which she 
delivered the concluding sentence of the recitative, ' D' un 
militare io cJiiudo in petto it core,' gave, at once, and un- 
mistakably, the clue to the military side of the character. 
The feats of vocalisation with which the whole of the move- 
ment was crowded — the rich cadenze, and the long chain of 
shakes, beginning on a protracted D, and rising, step by step, 
with ever-increasing brilliancy, to the G which introduces 
the reprise of the melody — 'Were marvellously executed. 
Later on, when Tonio appeared upon the scene, and the 
soldiers threatened to shoot him as a spy, the righteous scorn 

108 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. vi. 

with wliicli slie cried, * Che ! la mortc a colui die mi salvo la 
vita ! ' rang out with a power which rendered it impossible 
to doubt, that, from that moment, the captive lover's safety 
was assured. The actual language of the lihrdf.o, at this 
point, is so miserably poor, that Maria's rescue by Tonio 
is robbed of every particle of the interest it should naturally 
have commanded. But Mdlle. Lind's conception of the situ- 
ation carried everything before it ; and made misunderstand- 
ing impossible, by bringing the incident into the prominence 
necessary for the full development of its dramatic import. 
And then, when the Kegiment had given its consent to the 
union of the lovers, the triumphant pride with which she 
sang the praises of L' Undccimo, in the well-known 
' Ciascun lo dice,' gave even to that j)Oor hackneyed tune 
the value of a priceless gem. 

The love-scene that followed was delicious in its simplicity ; 

and, in the Finale, the singer again triumphed over the 

poverty of the material supplied to her, and threw into 

* Convicn partir ' a pathos which certainly is not inherent in 

the music itself, and could only have been transfused into it 

by the irresistible power of genius. In the transition from 

F minor to F major by means of a long-drawn portamento 

between the upper E and F, the melting of the voice into 

the higher note was so perfect, that, while the audience were 

listening to it, in breathless suspense, the change seemed to 

make itself felt, rather than heard, to the remotest corner of 

the house. The effect of this passage baffles all attempt at 

verbal description: It was one of those artistic miracles 

which no other vocalist of the period could have wrought. 

Yet, iwrtamcnti of this kind are common enough. One 

listens to them every day. In what, then, did this particular 

one differ so much from those to which the audience had been 

previously accustomed, that, to this day, it haunts the 

memory of every one who heard it ? We cannot tell. We 


only know that the management of such passages by Mdlle. 
Lincl was different — essentially different — from that practised 
by any other singer ; an art so peculiarly her own, that no- 
later vocalist has ever attempted to imitate it. 

In the Second Act, the whole sentiment of the impersona- 
tion was changed ; and the heroine was presented to us amidst 
influences which had materially affected her childlike nature. 

Less than half tamed, as yet, by the educational processes 
with which the Marchesa had tormented her, Maria, in 
the famous singing-lesson with which the act opens, was as 
vivacious as ever. Yielding, only too readily, to the mis- 
cliievous temptations of Sulpizio, she burst through the 
trammels of Paisiello's old-fashioned little ditty, first with 
the rataplan, and then with the refrain of ' Ciascim lo dice,' 
with a mirthful defiance of courtly etiquette which roused 
the audience into a very fever of excitement. The fioriture 
introduced into this half-comic scene were more brilliant, 
and more marvellously executed, than any that had preceded 
them. Never was a more astonishing display of purest 
technical skill attempted. But the real merit of the per- 
formance lay much deeper than this — in its subtle delineation 
of character — its perfect mastery of the art of dramatic por- 
traiture. The wild and impulsive Vivandiere had been compelled 
to imitate the manners, and adopt the external usages, of the 
new grade of society into which she had been forced against 
her will. But the change was upon the surface only ; and 
the delicacy of detail by means of which this fact was im- 
pressed upon the mind of the spectator was, perhaps, the 
most masterly feature in the performance. For, it showed 
that the heart of the girl was unchanged. She was bored to 
death by the stiffness with which she was surrounded ; but 
endured it patiently, to please the old Marchesa. She was 
as good-natured and as mischievous, and as true to the tra- 
ditions of her childhood as ever ; and wore the mask imposed 

110 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. vi. 

■upon her so loosely, that even the heavy old soldier, Sul- 
pizio, was able to peer behind it. He saw no change in his 
beloved foundling. But there was a change. Her character 
had gained in nobility ; and, when her sense of duty was put to 
the test, she showed herself equal to the occasion, and, by 
her filial obedience won the prize she had so long and so 
ardently coveted. 

These delicate traits were painted with a perfection of 
detail to which no poet's numbers could have added one 
single charm ; and the brightest light in the picture found its 
natural expression in the joy of the last Finale, which, de- 
riving no assistance whatever from the bare verses of the 
libretto, and with no framework of delicate embroidery, like 
the passages in ' Ah ! non giungc' to add to its beauty, 
depicted a happiness little less rapturous than that of 
Amina herself. 

Never, we may safely say, in the whole history of Art was 
so brilliant and so legitimate a triumph produced, with such 
slender means for its foundation. All that was beautiful and 
attractive, all that was natural and touching in the part, was 
infused into it by the genius of its interpreter — a genius 
strong enough to create its own opportunities for the display 
of dramatic power, or musical effect, where no such oppor- 
tunities were furnished in the score — imaginative enough to 
invent a role, full of piquant prettinesses, and abounding in 
points of perfectly legitimate interest, as a substitute for one 
that was absolutely colourless — and bold enough to present this 
charming ideal to the public, with such power of truthfulness, 
such variety of dramatic effect, such marked individuality of 
character, that, from first to last, the audience never felt the 
slightest temptation to wish that the plot of the story, or the 
libretto founded upon it, or the music adapted to the libretto, 
had been in any respect other than they really were. 

Wherever the Opera was represented, the effect was the 


same. We have spoken of its reception in Munich, and 
Vienna. In London, the excitement it produced was in no 
degree less enthusiastic than that which had been manifested 
on the evening of the debut. The calls before the curtain 
were more boisterous than ever ; and, at every repetition of 
the piece — which was given for the first time on Thursday, 
the 27tli of May — the house was crowded : filled, not merely 
by visitors who went to be amused, but, by a more than 
ordinarily appreciative body of listeners, who made a nightly 
study of the technical perfections presented to them. 

*' One circumstance," says a London journal of the period, 
" we must not omit to notice — the number of artists who go 
every night to Her Majesty's Theatre, when La Lind per- 
forms. We commend them ; for every trait she gives is a 
€hcf-cV oeuvre ; every gesture, a model to be studied. 

" * 

No portrait of a dramatic artist, in a favourite character, 
was ever so freely circulated as that of Mdlle. Lind, in the 
part of " ]\Iaria." It was to be seen in every print-shop ; on 
the counter of every music-seller ; in the illustrated journals ; 
on every stall on which a print could be exposed for sale. 
It was familiar to everybody — and is so still. The charming 
little picture we presented to our readers when speaking of 
the performance of the Opera at Vienna, is as well known to 
them already, as the portraits of their own ancestors. Of 
whom else can this be said ? To how many among us is the 
portrait of Madame Malibran in La Sonnamhula familiar ? 
Not many of us would even recognise it. Yet, every one 
recognises Mdlle. Lind ; and, strange to say, she is better 
remembered, even now, in the character of " Maria," than in 
any of her other impersonations. Can any reason be 
assigned for this ? Assuredly ; a very strong one. 

The parts of "Norma" and^Amina," "Agatha" and "Alice" 

* See the Illustrated London News, for May 30, 1847. 

112 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. vh 

— all the parts in wliicli she accomplished her greatest 
triumphs — were in the highest degree romantic ; dim pic- 
tures of the past, appealing to the imagination of the poet, ta 
the painter's sense of beauty, to the musician's love for rich 
and varied composition. One and all, they addressed them- 
selves to the cultivated mind ; to the man of taste, and 
knowledge, and refinement ; to the artist, whose own studies 
had enabled him to seize upon, and fairly appreciate, their 
exceeding beauty. 

But this more homely manifestation of dramatic truthful- 
ness addressed itself to all the world ; to the ignorant, no 
less than to the learned ; to gentle and simple ; to rich and 
poor ; to each and all alike. So true a Child of Nature was 
Maria, that she had something to say to every one. And 
so it came to pass, that, of all the Operas in which Mdlle. 
Lind appeared in London, La Figlia del Rcggimcnto was the 
one that spoke most plainly to the general public, and 
became the greatest favourite with the outer world — with 
thaL mixed multitude, which, unable to comprehend the 
imaginative phase of her artistic character, could hear, and 
love, and understand the voice of Nature, and bow the 
head before its resistless power. 

We have heard the Germans speak of her, as the " Priestess. 
of Art." It was as the " Priestess of Nature " that she won 
the hearts of " the people." 

( 113 ) 


THE queen's state VISIT TO THE OPEKA. 

The evening of Tuesday, the 15th of June, 1847, was a 
memorable one, in the annals of Her Majesty's Theatre. 

On that night, the Queen and the Prince Consort honoured 
the old historic Opera-House with a State visit ; and, " by 
Eoyal command," Mdlle. Lind appeared, for the first time in 
England, in the part of " IlTorma." 

Every conceivable care had been taken, by the manage- 
ment, to prepare a fitting reception for its august visitors. 
No expense had been spared, and no artistic detail neglected, 
which could add to the convenience of the Eoyal guests, or 
the magnificence of the entertainment. 

"Those," says the Illustrated London Neivs, "who were 
fortunate enough to be present at Her Majesty's Theatre, on 
Tuesday evening, will long remember the splendour of that 
' Temple of Lyrical Art,' which was decorS (as our French 
neighbours say) for deux solennites : the State visit of Her 
Most Gracious Majesty, and the triumphant success of Mdlle. 
Jenny Lind in the clicf-d'ceuvrc of Bellini, as ' Norma.' 

" The decorations of the Eoyal boxes were magnificent. 
The box usually occupied by Her Majesty (immediately over 
the front of the stage, to the left of the spectator), that of the 
Queen Dowager, and the boxes on the right and left of the 
Queen's, were hung on the outside with draperies of rich 
crimson Genoa velvet, trimmed with gold lace and broad 
bullion fringe, and blue velvet, trimmed with silver lace. 
The Eoyal Arms were displayed on the front of the box, on 
blue velvet ; the top was surmounted with a gilt crown ; and, 
at the corners, were war trophies ; the whole being surrounded 


114 JENNY LIND. [bk. vn. ch. vii. 

with riclily- carved gilt pillars. A platform covered with 
scarlet cloth was placed on the stage, on which stood, accord- 
ing to custom, two of the Yeomen of the Guard. 

" The inside of Her Majesty's box was as remarkable for 
taste and elegance, as the outside, for gorgeous display. It 
was lined with white satin, covered with light blue tulle, and 
ornamented with richly-carved gold mouldings. The ante- 
chamber was hung with pink silk, over which was white 
tulle, trimmed with a profusion of Valenciennes lace. There 
were several pier-glasses, ornamented with wreaths of artificial 
flowers, which had a most brilliant effect. 

"In the refreshment-room, and in the passages, were 
bouquets of rare exotics. The passages were hung with rich 
blue velvet, and wreaths and festoons of artificial flowers ; 
and were brilliantly lighted with lustres. 

" As early as half-past three o'clock, several parties had 
assembled at the various entrances of the theatre ; and the 
doors were opened half an hour earlier than usual. Crowds 
of Her Majesty's loyal subjects thronged Pall Mall, and 
greeted the Queen en route to the theatre, where Her Majesty 
was received with a flourish of trumpets, by the band of the 
Guards, and with cheers, by those assembled at the doors. 

" Precisely at eight o'clock, the Queen entered the Royal 
box, with His Koyal Highness, Prince Albert, accompanied 
by their suite ; when, instantaneously, the band struck up 
' God save the Queen,' which was sung by the leading mem- 
bers of the troupe melodieuse, Madame Castellan singing the last 
verse. The applause at the conclusion was genuine, and 
enthusiastic. Her Majesty, having gracefully acknowledged 
the cheers and plaudits of her loyal subjects inside the house, 
sat down : and the performance commenced. 

"For twelve years, Bellini's Norma has been deservedly 
popular in this country. A charming strain of melody per- 
vades it, and delights every true lover of music. 

" The admirable performance of Jenny Lind, on Tuesday 
evening, as the ' Druid Priestess,' was as remarkable for her 
superb vocalisation, as her beautifully impressive reading of 
the role of ' Norma.' On her entree, she was received with 
the same marks of genuine approbation as on other occasions, 
which were renewed, on her concluding the first movement 
of the celebrated ' Casta diva' when one of those notes was 
heard, so pure, so full, so bell-toned, and continued for such a 
length of time that everybody present was equally astonished 


and delighted. The second movement was remarkable for a 
new reading of the text, in which she introduced some dra- 
matic fioriture, wliich were executed with the greatest preci- 
sion, truthfulness of intonation, and most brilliant effect. At 
the conclusion of the first movement of the popular duet, 
' Deh con tc,' — in which she was ably seconded by Madame 
Barroni, the ' Adalgisa ' of the evening — a new cadenza was 
most effectively given, in whicli Mdlle. Lind seemed to revel 
in all the exuberance of her exquisite taste. The beauties of 
Mdlle. Lind's acting and singing are so numerous, that, to do 
her justice, we should have to mention every piece in which 
she had to perform, throughout the Opera. However, we 
must not omit her exquisite reading of the duet ' In mia 
man al fin tu sei ' ; and the celebrated ' Qual cor tradisti,^ 
wliich were triumphs in the lyric as well as the dramatic 

" Immediately after the Divertissement, the National 
Anthem was again sung, when Her Majesty, her Eoyal 
Consort, and their suite, left the theatre." * 

While fully agreeing with every word of the above criticism, 
it is our duty to say that the opinion expressed in the Elus- 
trated London News with regard to Mdlle. Lind's interpretation 
of the part of " Norma " was not shared by the press generally ; 
nor was it entertained by a large proportion of the general 
public. The subscribers to Her Majesty's Theatre had been 
so long accustomed to Madame Grisi's conception of the part — 
which, as we long ago explained,! differed, toto cmlo, from that of 
the ne'^ p'ima donna — that it was prepared to accept no other. 
For them, " Norma " was not a woman, but a Pythoness ; not 
a human creature, with a human heart, but a savage Priestess, 
mad with the passion of the senses. Wlien Mdlle. Lind 
placed a human heart in her bosom — a heart susceptible to 
love, to pity, and even to sympathy, large enough to rise to 
an act of noblest self-abnegation — the public simply failed to 
recognise her. The " Norma " they had known so long, and 

* From the Illustrated London News, June 19, 1877. 
t See vol. i. page 212. 

I 2 

116 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. vii. 

SO intimately, was altogether different from this ; and they did 
not want a different " Norma." They were perfectly satisfied 
with the beautiful tigress presented to them, season after 
season, since the year 1835, by Madame Grisi ; and they 
would accept no other reading of the part. 

Who could blame them ? Madame Grisi's " Norma " was 
a splendid creation. She both sang and acted the part 
magnificently. She had adopted the conception first formed 
of it by Madame Pasta, who had herself sung it on that self- 
same stage, fourteen years previously, in 1833 ; and it was 
certainly open to two such accomplished artists to believe, if 
their careful study of the role led them to do so, that true 
womanly feeling was incompatible with its histrionic demands. 
Mdlle. Lind thought otherwise ; and, in every Continental 
town in which she had impersonated the Druidess, the critics 
had agreed with her. The English critics did not ; and even 
Mr. Lumley was compelled to own that, in London, her 
" Norma " could not be called an *' unquestionable triumph." 
Comparing her successes in the roles of "Maria," and 
" Norma," he says : — 

" The acting of Jenny Lind, as the simple-minded and 
impulsive ' Vivandihx,' struggling against the trammels of 
conventional fine-lady life, established the character as one of 
Jenny's triumphs. 

" In the same category can scarcely be placed the ' Norma,' 
which shortly followed ; being first given, ' by Eoyal com- 
mand,' on the occasion of a State visit of the Queen to Her 
Majesty's Theatre, on Tuesday, the 15th of June, 1847. 

" Doubtless, there was a great charm in the new version 
given to the character by the gifted young singer, who made 
unextinguished love for the faithless 'Pollio' more con- 
spicuous than the rage of the deceived and slighted woman. 
In the bursts of emotion, which were rather those of anguish 
and reproach than of implacable revenge — in the mercifulness 
rather than the passion of her despair — and in the tardy re- 
signation of her self-sacrifice — there shone the great artist. 
Eut the English public, ever loyal to its idols, had been 


accustomed to another delineation of the slighted Druid 
Priestess. It had long gazed with emotion upon the burning 
passion, the withering indignation, and the imposing grandeur 
of Grisi, and could not be taught to relish a ' new treatment.' 
The interesting picture of womanly devotion, womanly- 
anxiety and suffering, even of womanly forgiveness, as painted 
by Jenny Lind, however touching to behold, was evidently 
contrary to stage tradition. Dilettanti disputed, with psycho- 
logical accuracy on both sides, as to the respective truthful- 
ness of the rival impersonations of Grisi and Jenny Lind ; 
but the public remained comparatively unimpressed. The 
attempt, in face of a recognised and familiar type, was 
thought to have been a mistake. At all events, ' Norma ' 
could hardly be counted among Jenny Lind's unquestionable 
triumphs." * 

Nothing can be fairer than this unbiassed analysis of thc- 
causes which led to the abandonment of the part of " Norma," 
after Mdlle. Lind had appeared in it three times. The lan- 
guage of some of the leading journals, and especially, of those 
which were devoted, with heart and soul, to the interests of 
the rival Opera Company at Covent Garden, was far less 
tolerant than this. The Times, however, criticised the per- 
formance with keen perception of its import and intention. 

" The peculiarity in Mdlle. Jenny Lind's Norma is, that 
she makes the ferocious features of the character less pro- 
minent than her predecessors, but the portions that illustrate 
the tender affections, more so. 

" Norma may be interpreted in two ways. The jealous 
rage into which she breaks when she discovers that Adalgisa 
is the object of Pollio's love, the frenzy which tempts her to 
kill her children, may be so brought forward, that the ferocious 
notion is almost forgotten — and still, a very fine and im- 
pressive performance may be the result. 

" But Norma, in spite of her violence, is a tender mother, 
and an affectionate daughter. Her last wish, before death, 
is, to be reconciled to her father, and obtain his promise to 
protect her children. These are the peculiarities which 

* ' Reminiscences of the Opera,' pp. 190-191. 

118 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. vii. 

Jenny Lincl seizes; and hence, tlie great delicacy of her 
reading. She gives the Keltic Priestess a deep impress of 
mercifulness. She makes you think more of the pain she is 
forced to endure, than of the implacable resentment she 
harbours. Nothing could be more deeply sorrowful than her 
Qual cor tradisti, in the Finale. It was the perfection of 
intense reproach. The by-play, throughout, was most re- 
fined, and all illustrative of the softer treatment of the cha- 
racter. The famous sostenuto which immediately precedes 
Casta Diva brought out all the effect of her wonderful bell- 
like voice. The calm equal manner in which this Air was 
executed, and the charming play of the voice in the cabbaletta, 
Ah ! hello a. me ritorno, took the audience by storm, and she 
was called forward enthusiastically, at its conclusion. 

"After the fall of the curtain, Mdlle. Lind received a 
shower of bouquets, which covered a great part of the stage. 
And, let it be added, that, among her ap^ilauders, none were 
more enthusiastic than the Queen." * 

Nothing can be fairer, or more justly discriminating, than 
this critique. Let us hear what the Athcnmum has to say of 
the performance. 

" Norma was given, on Tuesday evening, by command of 
Her Majesty, who visited the theatre in State. Many, 
besides ourselves, were surprised by Mdlle. Lind's person- 
ation of the heroine. This had been described to us, through- 
out Germany, and has been chronicled there, in many a long 
piece of elaborate criticism, as an entirely ' new reading ' of 
the part — something softer, tenderer (more maidenly ^ has 
been the epithet), than any previous representative has given. 
We have never been able to conceive what such a treatment 
could be — however, the fact was authenticated by the spe- 
cification of certain passages and new effects ; since, to our- 
selves, it has always appeared that there are few characters 
in the range of Opera so clearly marked as that of Norma. 
Pride, passion, horror, despair, contempt, expiation, and their 
influences upon Women, make up the story of the faithless 
Priestess — the Oracle, who uses her powers of domination to 
doom herself More or less of tenderness will be thrown 
into the character, in the proportion as the artist is a Pasta, 

* From The Times, June 16, 1847. 


a Malibran, a Grisi, or a Kemble; but, the root thereof is 
strength. A simple Lady Macbeth — an Amina who should 
walk in effrontery — a Eosina, who should sing the Willow- 
Song while Dr. Bartolo was being shaved — would hardly, we 
think, be a more signal mistake than a girlish and gentle 
Norma. Yet, such has been the praise which heralded the 
Druidess, as impersonated by Mdlle. Lind. 

" Great, therefore, was our surprise at the reality — to the 
point that the lady must have suddenly changed lier reading, 
and adopted the familiar one followed, with some variations, 
by all her predecessors. By Mdlle. Lind, as by the four 
great artists whom we have named, the grand, the forcible, 
and the intense, are now aimed at — the dignity of the 
priestess, the rage and scorn of the jealous woman, the 
remorse which precipitates the rival into self-sacrifice, and 
the final outbreak of the mother's agony and shame. These 
things, we say, are now attempted — and it is in the ' high 
German fashion,' with those perpetual set attitudes, and 
sedulous changing of draping, called by our neighbours 
Sclilcicrspicl, which are amongst the least agreeable pecu- 
liarities of the German school of tragic acting — Mdlle. Lind's 
earnest and serious countenance lending itself well to the task. 
" The whole thus produced is elaborate and conventional, 
rather than moving : an effort not only beyond the limits of 
natural execution, but also involving numerous inconsistencies, 
and bit-by-bit readings, such as we can only account for on 
the tlieory of reconsideration. 

"Nor can we subscribe to the lady's treatment of the 
music. Her idea of impressiveness involves delay ; and her 
first Kecitative was too long-drawn and heavy. She is also 
apt, in moments of emotion, to resort to an almost speaking 
tone — a device carried to its utmost by Madame Schroeder 
Devrient, which is anything but artistic. 

" We missed point, measurement, and motion, throughout 
the entire opening Air, the Trio, and the Duet with the 
Tenor. More finish might have been given to the executive 
passages. Mdlle. Lind's voice, too, was suffering, under the 
anxiety of the occasion. Having been the first in welcoming 
her as a first-rate artist, we cannot see her wandering wide 
of the highest honours without regret. When acting and 
singing Norma, as she did on Tuesday last, she is out of the 
right path." * 

* From the AtheiicBum, June 19, 1847. 

120 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. viu 

We must leave the reader to reconcile these remarks in 
the AtJienamm, as best he can, with the glowing words 
written to Mendelssohn and Mrs. Grote by Mr. Chorley,. 
from Frankfort.* But the language of the 3Iusical World is 
even stronger than Mr. Chorley's. 

" At length, amidst the most breathless silence from the 
whole audience, appeared Norma, attended by her priestesses. 

" The first glance at Mdlle. Lind was enough to convince 
anybody present that her reading of the part would be not 
merely different in some particulars, but altogether opposed 
to the Norma created by Pasta, and developed to perfection 
by Grisi. To begin, the costume which j\Idlle. Lind assumed 
was at variance with the stage directions. There was nothing 
Druidical in it, but something that bordered on the studied 
neglige of a modern fine lady. Whether this infraction of 
dramatic propriety be defensible admits of question. How- 
ever, our business is with Mddle. Lind's singing and acting, 
and not with her manner of attire. 

" In the opening Eecitative, Sediziose voci, Mdlle. Lind was 
evidently discomposed. Her voice trembled, her intonation 
was faulty, and there was a want of dignity in her bearing, 
and of force in her declamation. Moreover, the veiled 
quality and weakness of her middle notes, of which we have 
already spoken, were exhibited to disadvantage. The long 
note Bb at the end of the Eecitative preceding the Aria, 
Casta, Diva, in Eb,t failed of its usual effect. Casta Diva 
itself presented some exquisite points of vocalisation, but, on 
the whole, it disappointed us. The embellishments introduced 
into the first delivery of the theme, though sparing, were 
superfluous. The florid passages accompanying the choral 
refrain of the Druids, A noi volgi, were unsteady, and the 
shakes were equivocally intoned. In the resumption of 
the theme, the embellishments, though slight again, were 
again superfluous. In the cahbalctta, Ah I hello a me ritorno, 
the mezza voce delivery of some phrases was delicious, but 
the whole was deficient in brilliancy. 

"Here, let us say, in defence of the charming artist — 
who, in her own sphere, is incomparable, and wdio should not 

* See vol. i., pp. 430, 431. 

t This is incorrect ; Mdlle. Lind sang Casta Diva in F. 


be persuaded by any consideration to move in a different one 
— that the circumstances of the moment were enough to 
paralyse powers, if possible, greater than her own. The 
extent of public anticipation, the immense crowd, the pre- 
sence of Her Majesty in State, and the presence of Mario in 
the stalls, were enough, in all conscience, to overwhelm her. 
We are quite convinced that her Casta Diva ought to be a 
charming, nay ! a faultless performance ; and, on any other 
occasion, we are sure it would be, and to-night, peradventure, 
will be. Our admiration for Mdlle. Lind's vocal and dra- 
matic talent is so great, that it is with absolute pain that we 
feel ourselves compelled to withhold from any performance of 
hers one fraction of the enthusiasm we have hitherto felt so 
much delight in expressing. But, where are we to look for 
perfection ? 

"The hravura passage, Ah! non tremarc, pcrfido, one 
of the grandest points in Norma, was, in Mdlle. Lind's 
hands, little more than a display of correct and clever vo- 
calisation. The withering reproach, the insulted dignity, the 
sublime contempt of the high-souled priestess for the vulgar 
sensualist, were all absent. Again, the theme of the Trio, 
di qual sei tu vittima, another unfailing point with the great 
Xormas, though irreproachably vocalised by Mdlle. Lind, 
for want of the soul-stirring enthusiasm which Grisi so well 
knows how to infuse into it was altogether unheeded by the 
crowded audience, who appeared to be unaware that it was 
one of the capital points of the Opera. The Ehhmi ! lo compi, 
in which the contempt and scorn exhibited by Grisi were 
nothing short of suljlime, was comparatively tame with 
Mdlle. Lind, while the Vanne, si, mi lascia indcgno, which 
should be a torrent of indignation, was, in her hands, a 
caput mortuum. The great point of Grisi, at the entrance of 
Pollio, when Adalgisa singles him out as the possessor of her 
heart — II mira — with the pause that precedes the excla- 
mation of astonishment — Ei Pollione ! — was missing alto- 
gether. Mdlle. Lind seemed to be either unaware of, or to 
disregard, the possibility of the effect deducible from the 

" In most of her delineations, Mdlle. Lind is remarkable 
for the finesse with which she conceives and develops all the 
subtle points of expression offered by the variety of sentiment 
which belongs to every particular scene ; but, in her Norma., 
tliis fine quahty seems almost altogether wanting. In the 

122 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. vii. 

Eecitative, Old ministri, where she calls together the Druids, 
and in the Son io, when she confesses herself to be the guilty 
offender, there was strong evidence of such exhaustion as 
proved the part of Norma to be beyond her physical capa- 

" The exclamation, Ciclo, e mci figlii, was the finest point 
Mdlle. Lind achieved, throughout the entire Opera. The 
sudden remembrance of her helpless offspring seemed to 
strike her with dismay, and her whole frame writhed with 
emotion. The Beh non vedcrli, where she appeals to Oroveso 
to protect her children after she is gone, was declaimed with 
the most intense passion ; but the way in which she dis- 
regarded the melodic rhythm, by lengthening and abbreviating 
the notes ad libitum, destroyed the character of the accom- 
paniment, and so robbed this lovely phrase of more than half 
its charm. It is this superfluous indulgence in the te7n]oo 
ruhato which appears to us to court defeat in Mdlle. Lind's 
singing. That, 'without rhythm there is no melody, and 
without melody there is no music,' is a maxim that cannot 
be too frequently offered to the consideration of vocalists, 
and it is long since a more appropriate occasion has suggested 
to us the necessity of urging it. " * 

These were by no means the only adverse critiques which 
appeared in the London journals of the period ; but they will 
suf&ce to show the feeling which prevailed among those who 
did not share the popular admiration for the new 2^'>''^''n<^ 
donna, during the struggle between the rival Opera Houses. 
Fortunately, there were not wanting critics whose views 
were broad enough to discover the merits, both of Mdlle, 
Lind's rendering of the part, and Grisi's, without praising 
or blaming either, at the expense of the other. We have 
given the opinions of both sides, leaving the reader to judge 
for himself how far it is possible to reconcile the discrepancy 
between them. 

One thing, however, is certain. If Mdlle. Lind's " Norma " 
had been really as poor and nerveless as the Musical World 

* From the mimical World, June 19, 1847.' 


asserted it to have been, it could never have won the lofty 
encomiums and enthusiastic admiration bestowed upon it by 
the most experienced critics of Berlin, and Vienna, and 
Munich, and Stockholm, and every other European capital 
in which she had performed it, before its representation at 
Her Majesty's Theatre. Every critic of reputation on the 
Continent had numbered it among her most superb artistic 
achievements, and as such it had everywhere been received 
by the public. 

Which of the two opposing verdicts may we venture to 
accept as the true one ? 

124 JENNY LINT). [ 



Though Her Majesty's State visit to the Opera House may be 
fairly said to have marked the culminating i^oint of interest 
in Mdlle. Lind's first London season, it by no means repre- 
sented the last, or even the greatest of her triumphs. 

Of her later successes we propose to speak, in our next 
chapter ; but, before describing these, it is necessary that we 
should interrupt the regular course of our narrative, for a 
moment, to recur, for the last time, to a subject which 
continued to excite the interest of the musical world, long 
after those whom it most intimately concerned had given up 
all hope of bringing it to a satisfactory conclusion. 

When we last spoke of Mendelssohn's promise to compose 
an Opera for Her Majesty's Theatre, with the principal part 
assigned to Mddle. Lind, and written expressly for her, it 
seemed just possible that the idea might be carried 
out and the work completed in time for performance 
during the season of 1847. But, as the case now stood, 
time was becoming a most important object ; for her 
determination to leave the stage, at the earliest possible 
moment, grew stronger, day by day; and her impatience 
seemed only to increase, in proportion to the difficulties by 
which she was surrounded. It was, therefore, only too 
probable that, if the work could not be got ready in time for 
the present season, the scheme would fall through altogether. 
And, at the period of which we are now treating, the once 

1847.] "LA tempesta:' 125 

brio-ht prospect had long since dwindled down to the 
proportions of a forlorn hope — and less. 

Still, Mendelssohn was bent upon writing an Opera ; and 
cherished the idea of doing so, to the last day of his life. His 
difficulty in procuring a libretto on which he could work with 
perfect satisfaction has been discussed, over and over again, 
by his biographers, with deep and untiring interest; but, 
hitherto, no satisfactory account of the circumstances has 
been given to the world. We think, therefore, that our 
readers will not be sorry to be furnished with some trust- 
worthy information on the subject ; and we esteem ourselves 
fortunate in being able to lay this before them in a form 
the authenticity of which cannot be doubted.* 

Of the three persons most deeply interested in bringing 
the matter to a successful issue, Mr. Lumley was certainly, 
at this difficult juncture, neither the least eager, nor the 
least hopeful. He was, indeed, bound in honour to take 
advantage of every opportunity that might present itself for 
the attainment of the desired result, with regard to which 
his position was sufficiently critical to add no small amount 
of anxiety to his already heavy share. He had pledged him- 
self, in his prospectus, that the new Opera should be produced 
before the end of the season ; and, in making this promise to 
his subscribers, he had been fully justified by Mendelssohn's 
promise to himself Yet more than one influential journal 
devoted to the interests of the rival Opera-Company had im- 
pugned his good faith, and openly expressed its disbelief in 
the existence of any arrangement whatever between Mendels- 
sohn and himself on the subject. The Morning Chronicle 

* From the ' Green volumes.' We have already had occasion to allude 
to these valuable records, in a footnote on p. 393, vol. i. ; but we cannot 
here refrain from expressing our deep sense of the obligation conferred 
i;pon us by the Mendelssohn family, in permitting us such free and 
unrestrained access to them. 

126 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. viii. 

had gone so far as to describe the announcement in the pro- 
spectus as " a mere fabrication " ; and, when called upon by 
the solicitors to Her Majesty's Theatre to substantiate the 
charge, had refused all redress, beyond a promise to ascertain, 
from Mdlle. Lind and Dr. Mendelssohn, whether the 
manager's assertion was true, or not — and this, at a moment 
when all concerned were doing their best to procure the 
necessary libretto, at any cost. 

We have seen, from Mendelssohn's letters to Mdlle. Lind, 
how deep an interest he took in the subject, and how warmly 
she responded to it, at a period long anterior to the crisis at 
which we have now arrived. On the 26th of June, 1846, she 
wrote to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, from Nienstadten : — 

" But, the most important point of all is, how is the Opera 
getting on ? Are you still thinking of it ? You can depend 
upon me, until next autumn ; but not longer than that. Do 
something with it, I entreat you ! Mendelssohn is deeply 
interested in it, and quite agrees with the new idea — as I do, 
also. I beg you to complete the work, for the sake of aU 
three of us ; for it will certainly redound to our honoui\" * 

But, in spite of these earnest entreaties, the poem remained 
unwritten. No progress was made, even with the construc- 
tion of a scenario. As time slipped away, Mr. Lumley 
grew even more impatient than Mdlle. Lind herself; and, 
while Mendelssohn was still hoping against hope that a 
successful arrangement might be concluded with Madame 
Birch-Pfeiffer, the active manager was already seeking for a 
satisfactory libretto in other directions. Mendelssohn had 
discussed the question with him as early as the beginning of 
October, 1846, wliile the contract for the performances at Her 
Majesty's Theatre was still unsigned, and its ratification 
extremely uncertain. When he entrusted him with the letter 
which eventually determined Mdlle. Lind to accept the 

* From the collection of Frau von Hillern. 

1847.] "LA TEMPESTAr 127 

London engagement, he spoke of a scenario of Shakspeare's 
TemjKst then in his possession ; complained that it did not 
please Mm ; and mentioned M. Scribe as, in his opinion, the 
only man who could treat the subject satisfactorily. In the 
beginning of November, he again recurred to the subject, ex- 
pressing a hope, that, if he could begin to write with the new 
year, he might complete his work in time for the ensuing 
season ; and, on the 2nd of December, he wrote yet again, wdth 
the assurance that he would set all other occupations aside, for 
the purpose of finishing the Opera in good time, even if the 
libretto were not furnished by the beginning of January, 

It was not until the 15th of February, 1847, that 
Mendelssohn spoke positively, in his correspondence, of the 
final retirement of Madame Birch- Pfeiffer from the projected 
scheme ; * and in the meantime, negotiations were pending, 
with more than one dramatic poet of acknowledged talent. 

On the 12th of November, 1846, Mr. Lumley had written, 
from Milan : — 

" Deae Me. Mendelssohn, — I have been delayed in Milan, 
far beyond my anticipation. I have waited the past three or 
four days, to get the enclosed completed. I have only just 
obtained it — and I leave, to-day, for Paris. 

" I hope you will be satisfied with the general arrangement. 
Of course, there must be changes in it, dependent upon your 
wishes and feelings, and the effects you would like to pro- 
duce, for which the mingling of the Spirits of the Air with 
terrestrial objects will, I suppose, afford ample scope. In its 
present skeleton shape, without the ornament of poetry, it 
will, perhaps, read dryly ; but, I think you will feel the situa- 
tions sufficient for the heroine. For all the gentler sentiments 
— naivete, surprise, affection, anxiety, pity — all of which she 
can describe so beautifully, there are many situations ; and, 
for the more dramatic situations, perhaps the scene with 
Caliban, may be made to afford some scope. The drama 
itself, following nearly the order in wliich Shakspeare has 
arranged it — a great advantage — presents scenes and situa- 

* See his letter, of that date, aide, page 30. 

128 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. viii. 

tions of an euchanting character ; and the Bacchanal or the 
riotincf of the sailors, at the beoinnino- of the Second Act 
seems to me to break well the preceding and concluding 
scenes of the Drama, which, in themselves, are of a 
mingled character. But, of all this, you will be, of course, 
the best, and, in fact, the sole judge. 

" When you have considered it, will you, please, write to 
me on the subject, with any alterations you may wish ? I will 
lose no time about the poem. I have myself a copy ; and I 
will again give it my consideration, on my journey, and on 
my arrival at Paris if necessary. 

" I remain, my dear Sir, 

" Yours very truly, 

"B. LUMLEY."* 

This looked more promising than the comparatively vague 
and aimless communications of Madame Birch-Pfeiffer. The 
manager was evidently in earnest ; and was by no means 
averse from entering into negotiations with any number of 
dramatic authors at a time. His next communication was 
still more encouraging. 

On the 21st of November, he wrote, from Paris : — 

" My dear Sir, 

" I sent the business part of the lihrdto from Milan. 

" Since I wrote to you, a circumstance has occurred, which 
I think most fortunate. 

" The Chevalier Felice Eomani — the celebrated librettist, and 
best living poet of Italy — the author of the best and most 
successful Italian libretti, such as Norma, Lucrezia Borgia, La 
Sonnambula, L'Elisir d'Amore, Bcmco c Giulictta, Anna 
Bolena, etc., etc. — has been solicited in vain, for the last ten 
years and more, by all the composers and directors of Italy, 
to write a libretto, but has sturdily refused all kinds of offers. 
Some time ago, he had led me to hope that, from good 
feeling to me, he would do so. I determined, therefore, 
to use every exertion to this end — and there is no one to 
whom I could with so much satisfaction devote that pro- 
mise as to yourself I took Turin on my way home ; and, 

* From tlie original letter, preserved iu the ' Green -volumes.' 

1847.] "LA TEMPESTAr 129 

having at heart this affair, I used every entreaty, and he 
has consented to furnish the libretto. I have left with him 
a copy of the scenario you have; and he will let me have 
a portion of the poem, by the end of December, and the 
rest shortly after. That is the most for which I could 
obtain his promise. Of course, he will change the con- 
struction, if he thinks it necessary. The scenario is merely 
to save time. It maybe pleasing to you to know that he 
was delighted with the subject, and thinks it most admir- 
ably adapted. Depend upon it, I shall not lose sight of 
the subject, even in Paris, though possibly it will be 
hardly practicable to speak to Scribe, as the matter is in 
the hands of so distinguished a man as Eomani ; but, I will 
reflect upon it, and, if it can be done with ordinary 
delicacy, it shall — to meet the wish you have expressed. 
I shall be glad, however, to hear from you as soon as 
possible, with your views and wishes generally. 

" It is absurd for me to suggest — but having the poem 
of Shakspeare before you, would it not be possible in some 
way to economise time, should your other occupations allow? 

" I remain, mv dear Sir, 

" Yours very faithfully, 

" B. LUMLEY." * 

The puzzled manager did reflect upon the possibility of 
speaking to M. Scribe ; and communicated the result of his. 
deliberations to Mendelssohn, in the following letter : — 

" Paris, December 13, 1846 

" My dear Sie, 

" A day or two after my letter from Paris (as, on 
reflection, _ I thought it would be more satisfactory to you), 
I saw Scribe ; and he undertook to consider the subject, and 
draw out the business of each scene. 

" I have seen him several times ; and he enters heartily and 
takes great interest in it, and has promised me to complete it 
by the end of this week, having placed other things aside. 

" I have also hastened the departure of a poet from Italy ; 
and he wiU do the needful under the eye and dii-ection of 

* From the ' Green volumes.' 
VOL. II. -R- 

130 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. viii. 

" You are quite right in your appreciation of Scribe. His 
knowledge of the scene, and his life of mind as applicable to 
it, and to its connection with music, is extraordinary ; and he 
is a most agreeable and painstaking man. I will send you a 
copy of the scenario as soon as I get it. I have just heard that 
the plans for the ventilation have reached London. Within 
a few days from my arrival, I will give them my attention. 

" I shall leave Paris, as soon as the plot, or scenario, is 
completed ; but it will be more satisfactory to me to get it 
settled, if possible, before I leave. 

" With best compliments, I remain, 

" ]\Iy dear Sir, yours very truly, 

" B. LUMLEY." * 

Tliis letter shows a great advance in the preparation of the 

libretto ; and the next, written a fortnight later, announces its 


" Paris, December 28, 1846. 

" My dear Sir, 

" I send you, with this, the poem, by Scribe. 

" I think he has completed it in a way that will give you 
pleasure. He himself is in raptures with his work. As to 
myself, I can assure you that I have spared neither time nor 
trouble, nor allowed any consideration to interfere with its 
satisfactory termination ; and it is with peculiar satisfaction 
that I have been able to consummate our wishes, in a way 
which, wdiile it secures to me the assistance of your genius, 
will, I trust, be pleasing to you personally. 

" You will, of course, observe that, instead of a mere 
scenario, he has traced out all the material parts for music, 
in compliance with my wishes, in a w\ay which will at once 
enable you to carry out your intentions. 

" You will receive this, I hope, either on the 1st or 2nd of 
January, as arranged. 

" I remain, my dear Sir, 

" Yours faithfully, 

" B. LUMLEY." 

*' P.S. — Please to return me the letter of Scribe. I leave, 
to-morrow^ morning, for London. 

FroiQ the ' Green volumes.' 

1847.] "LA TEMPESTA:' 131 

" The following is the proposed distribution : — 

" ' Prospero ' — Lablache. 

" ' Caliban '— Staudigl. 

" ' Fernando ' — Gardoni (recommended by Scribe. We 
have also Fraschini). 

" ' Miranda '—J. L. 

" ' Ariel.' (I have a contralto, a mezzo-soprano, and a 

" Our chorus is very complete. 

" I have just received your letter of the 22nd, for which 
many thanks. It is more than gratifying to me to think 
that the course I had taken has met your approbation. 

)> * 

So, the conditions were fulfilled, at last ; and, by the be- 
ginning of the new year, the long-sought libretto was in 
Mendelssohn's hands — if not completed, at least so nearly so 
that there could be no doubt whatever as to the possibility of 
producing it by the time it was needed. 

But, at this point, a new difficulty arose — a difficulty 
which proved to be insurmountable. 

Mendelssohn was not satisfied with the way in wliich M. 
Scribe had treated the subject. He could not reconcile him- 
self to the poet's view of the second part of the drama — 
which was compressed into two acts — and felt no sympathy 
with it, in the form in which it was submitted to him ; while, 
on the other hand, M. Scribe expressed Ms firm determination 
to adhere to his own idea. A long correspondence ensued, 
between the author and the composer; but, although the 
former was ready to give way within certain limits, he could 
not bring himself to yield so far as to satisfy the scruples of 
Mendelssohn, whose artistic conscience rebelled against the 
changes which the French librettist proposed to introduce in 
the construction of a drama consecrated by the genius of 
Shakespeare. This difference of opinion proved fatal to the 
long-desired scheme. After a time, Mendelssohn abandoned 

* From the ' Green volumes.' 

K 2 

132 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. viir. 

all thought of La Tempesta, and again turned his attention to 
a German libretto, prepared for him, by his friend, Dr. Geibel, 
on the subject of Lorcley, with results which are too well 
known, and too closely connected with the saddest years 
of the great composer's life, to need repetition here. M. 
Scribe completed La Tempesta in his own way ; and his 
libretto was set to music by Halevy, and performed, at Her 
Majesty's Theatre, on the 8th of June, 1850, with Madame 
Sontag and Signor Lablache, in the principal parts. And,^ 
in the meantime, in order that he might not wholly break 
faith with his subscribers, Mr. Lumley — who had certainly 
done his best to secure the fulfilment of his promise — 
turned his attention, as the season of 1847 advanced, to 
another composer and another work, of a very different kind. 

( 133 ) 



Me. Lumley's managerial talent never showed itself to greater 
advantage, than when brought face to face with some apparently 
insurmountable difficulty ; and the failure of his endeavours 
to procure a new Opera from Mendelssohn, for the season of 
1847, served only to excite him to greater exertions than ever, 
in the cause of his beloved theatre. 

If Mendelssohn could not provide him with a finished work, 
in time for immediate production, some other composer must 
be found who could. 

And the composer fixed upon was Verdi. 

The Italian Maestro had not yet reached the acme of his 
popularity ; but he was already well known as the composer 
of Ncibucco, I Lomlardi, I due Foscari, Ernani, and Machcth. 
Two of these operas — Nahucco (under the name of Nino) and 
/ Due Foscari — had been performed at Her Majesty's Theatre, 
during that very season, with some show of success ; and 
negotiations had been set on foot for the production of a new 
one, on the subject of King Lear, the role of the unhappy 
monarch being destined for Signor Lablache. This project 
was, however, abandoned ; according to Mr. Pougin's account 
on the ground that the movmg spirit of an Opera must 
necessarily be " la imssion amourcuse" though Mr. Lumley 
himself ascribes the failure of the scheme to Signor Verdi's 
serious illness. Be this as it may, the idea of King Lear was 
xejected ; and the plot of Schiller's well-known play, Die 

134 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. ix. 

Ediibcr, substituted for that of Shakespere's tragedy. A 
libretto, founded on this subject, had ah'eady been prepared, 
by the popular Italian poet, Andrea Maffei ; and Verdi had 
fortunately completed the music in time to meet the 
manager's great need of a new work — failing the production 
of which, he would not have fulfilled the promise made to 
his subscribers at the beginning of the season. 

The new Opera was produced, on Thursday, the 22nd of 
July, under the title of / Masnadicri, Mademoiselle Lind 
taking the part of " Amalia " ; Signer Gardoni, that of the 
Eobber, " Carlo " ; Signer Coletti, that of his brother, 
" Francesco " ; and Signer Lablache, that of their aged father, 
" IMassimiliano." The rehearsals were directed by the com- 
poser himself, who came to this country for the sole purpose 
of bringing out his new work, and himself directed the 
orchestra on the first two nights of its performance. 

As no performance of / Masnadicri has taken place, in 
this country, since the year of its production, and as it has 
long since been forgotten, even on the Continent, we subjoin 
a brief sketch of its plot. 

The scene is laid in Bohemia during the progress of the 
Thirty Years' War. The two sons of Maximilian von Moor, 
an old Bohemian nobleman, are at variance ; and the younger, 
Franz, has so far poisoned his father's mind against the elder, 
Karl, that the stern parent has disinherited his first-born, and 
banished him from his home. Karl joins a band of robbers, 
and becomes their chief. Franz, impatient to seize upon his 
brother's inheritance, tells his father that Karl has been killed 
in battle, hoping, by this terrible news, to hasten the aged 
nobleman's death. ]\Iaximilian, however, survives the blow • 
and Franz then employs a follower, named Herrmann, to shut 
the old man up in a tower, and then to starve him to death. 
Herrmann, however, relents, and carries food to the prisoner, 
while Franz, openly proclaiming his father's death, makes an 

1847.] " I MASNADIERir 135 

offer of marriage to his cousin, Amalia, the betrothed of Karl. 
Amalia indignantly rejects his suit ; and, in the meantime, 
Karl returns, discovers his brother's infamous plot ; and sets 
his aged father free. Burning for vengeance, he promises to 
give himself, heart and soul, to the robbers, if they will assist 
him in burning the ancestral castle — now claimed, and 
occupied, by Franz — to the ground. The robbers consent ; 
and Tranz perishes miserably, while crying to Heaven for 
pardon and mercy. Karl now confesses his connection with 
the robbers to his father and Amalia ; and, after a harrowing 
scene, the latter overcomes her horror, and consents to be his 
wife, in spite of the guilty past. But, at this moment, the 
robbers enter ; and, reminding Karl of his oath, claim him as 
entirely their own. Amalia, in despair, prays for death as 
her only relief from shame and misery ; and Karl, in despera- 
tion, plunges a dagger into her heart. 

This terrible story was not very cleverly treated by the 
librettist ; and, notwithstanding the liighly dramatic situations 
presented in Schiller's romantic and — as we should now say — 
sensational play, the Italian version is decidedly weak. 
Moreover, the part of the heroine is entirely subservient to 
that of the aged nobleman, in whose cruel wrongs the whole 
interest of the story is centred. All this told strongly against 
the success of the piece ; yet, strangely enough, the journals 
of the day pronounced it a splendid triumph. 

" The Opera was highly successful," says the niustrated 
London News — the most important, and the most impartial 
Art-journal of the day. " The talented Maestro, on appearing 
in the orchestra to conduct his clever work, was received with 
three rounds of applause. He was called before the curtain, 
after the first and third acts, and at the conclusion of the 
Opera, amidst the most vehement plaudits. The house was 
crowded to excess, and was honoured by the presence of Her 
Majesty, Prince Albert, the Queen Dowager, and the Duchess 
of Cambridge. 

136 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. ix. 

" ISTothing could be more perfect and admirable tlian the 
way in which / Masnadicri is got up, and performed. All 
the four artists, gifted with voices rarely equalled, with music 
and dramatic skill of the first order, play with an cnscmhlc, 
spirit and genius which brings every point of the libretto, 
every happy thought of the composer, into prominence, 
while the orchestra and chorus seem as if inspked by one 
spirit, and work together in perfection. 

" The best parts of the Opera are, Gardoni's first air, which 
is exceedingly dramatic, and was rendered by him with a 
force and energy in which one hardly recognises the tender 
melancholy voice and style of the admirable young artist ; 
" Amalia's " two airs, ' Zo sgnardo avca ' and ' Carlo vivc ' ; the 
Finale to the first act ; the duet between Jenny Lind and 
Coletti, which is more remarkable in a dramatic point of view, 
however, and as a display of genius on the part of these two 
artists, than in any other respect ; and the duet of Gardoni 
and Lablache, which is beautiful, and was beautifully per- 
formed, and which many consider the gem of the Opera. 

" Lablache, as the old Bohemian noble, is splendid, as he 
always is ; both from his majestic appearance, his glorious 
voice, and his noble pathetic acting. 

" As for Jenny Lind, the effect she creates is what it could 
not fail to be. Her acting ; her exquisite perception of the 
character; her delicious execution of music, written, we 
suspect, rather with a view to its performance by ])rime 
donnc of a less extended compass of voice, and therefore not 
embracing her higher notes, but to which she gives an in- 
expressible charm ; all this would afford matter for a long 
dissertation, into wliich our space will not allow us to venture. 
Her execution of the splendid ' Carlo vivc ' was received with 
thunders of aj)plause, and was encored ; and the charming 
duettino in the third act ' Ma itn iri di 'pace', between Jenny 
Lind and Gardoni, obtained the same honours. The principal 
artists were recalled several times ; and bouquets innumerable 
were thrown to the Swedish songstress." * 

It will be noticed, that this critique, when read " between 
the lines," is pervaded by a cautious tone, very different from 
that in which the same reviewer indulges in his account of 
Norma. Eead by the light of future events, this reticence 

* Illustrated London News, July 24, 1847. 

1847.] "/ MASNABIEBL" 137 

becomes clearly intelligible. Mr. Lumley, in his account of 
the performance, speaks more plainly. 

" On Thursday, July the 22nd, he says, I Masnadicri, 
after many rehearsals conducted by the composer himself, 
was brought out, mth a cast that included Lablache, Gardoni, 
Coletti, Bouche, and, above all, Jenny Lind, who was to 
appear, for the second time only in her career, in a thoroughly 
original part, composed expressly for her. 

" The house was filled, to overflowing, on the first night of 
the representation. The Opera was given with every 
appearance of a triumphant success; the composer, and all 
the singers, receiving tlie highest honours. Indeed, all the 
artists distinguished themselves, in their several parts. Jenny 
Lind acted admirably, and sang the airs allotted to her 
exquisitely. But yet, / Masnaclieri could not be considered 
a success. That, by its production, I had adopted the right 
course, was unquestionable. I had induced an Italian com- 
poser, whose reputation stood on tlie liighest pinnacle of 
Continental fame, to compose an Opera expressly for my 
theatre, as well as to superintend its production. More I 
could not have done, to gratify the patrons of Italian music, 
who desired to hear new works. 

" It may be stated, in confirmation of the judgment of the 
London audience, that / Masnadicri was never successful, on 
any Italian stage. Tlie libretto was even worse constructed 
than is usually the case witli adaptations of foreign dramas to 
tlie purposes of Italian Operas. To Her Majesty's Theatre the 
work was singularly ill-suited. The interest, which ought to 
have centred in Mademoiselle Lind, was centred in Gardoni, 
while Lablache, as the imprisoned father, had to do about the 
only thing he could not do in perfection — having to represent 
a man nearly starved to death." * 

The opinions here expressed are confirmed, with singular 
exactitude, by another English critic, who sent an account of 
the performance to a journal published in Paris — the Gazette 
Musicale ; an account that does full justice to Mademoiselle 
Lind's noble conception of the part of "Amalia," without in 
the least disguising the fact, that, in spite of deceptive 

* ' Reminiscences of the Opera,' pp. 192, 193. 

138 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. CH. ix. 

appearances, the recejDtion of / Masnadieri could only be 
regarded as a fiasco ; an account, moreover, peculiarly inter- 
esting, at the present time, as an indication of the attitude of 
a certain school of musical criticism, forty years ago, to a 
composer who, in his later works, has entered upon an 
entirely new phase of his long Art-life. 

" 1 Masnadieri," says the anonymous reviewer, " is, as you 
know, the name of the new Opera produced by Verdi, at Her 
Majesty's Theatre ; but you do not know, perhaps, that the 
piece is only another imitation of Schiller's too famous Eohhers. 

"I should have preferred, I confess, another title, and 
another subject. I well remember, that, twelve or thirteen 
years ago, Mercadante also treated the same subject — which 
brought him no good fortune. He wrote the score of / Bri- 
ganti, for the Theatre Italien, at Paris (when it was produced 
on the 22nd of March, 1836) as Verdi wrote his for that of 
London ; and I shall never forget the roar of laughter that 
greeted Lablache, as he emerged from a dark tower in which 
he was supposed to have languished, for many long years, the 
victim of starvation. This was the only impression produced 
by the music of Mercadante ! * 

" As for the work of Verdi, I tell you, frankly, that I share 
the opinion of the critics, who are far from regarding it as 
his chef-d'oeuvre ; and I have no need to tell you what I 
think generally of the chefs-cVoeuvre of Verdi. Paris and 
London are unanimous, on this point. The Maestro has 
succeeded no better in one city, than in the other. Be it 
prejudice, or bad taste, or injustice, as certain people pre- 
tend, so let it be. I do not care to contradict them. They 
can appeal to the future, if they please ; I confine myself to 
the present. 

" But," you will say, " the present is an immense success, 
an incomparable effort, an enthusiasm without an equal ! 
Have you not heard the thunders of applause which began at 
the moment of Verdi's appearance in the orchestra, and never 
ceased until the fall of the curtain ? Do you count for 
nothing the tempest of furious encores — the frantic recalls 

* It was a strange coincidence indeed, that the herculean basso should 
have played the same part, in the Briganti of Mer/sadante, and the 
Masnadieri of Verdi ! 

1847.] "J MASNABIEBir 139 

■svitli which Jenny Lincl, Garcloni, Lablache, and Coletti were 
assailed ? " Ah ! yes ; my friend, I have seen it all, heard it 
all, considered it all. But, I am so much accustomed to these 
things, that, with the best intentions in the world, I find it 
impossible to be completely tlieir dupe. Mithridates arrived 
at a point at which no poison could possibly kill him. 

" You know the style of Verdi's music well enough. There 
never yet existed an Italian composer more incapable of 
producing what is vulgarly called, ' a melody.' If you add 
to this, that he never writes an oyertm-e, you will understand 
the full extent of liis faculties, in the direction of inspiration, 
a.nd science. 

" In liis new Opera there is no overture, as usual ; but, in 
place of it, a kind of ' Introduction ' distinguished chiefly by 
a phrase recited in masterly style by the violoncello of 
Piatti. The first chorus of Masnadieri, or Brigands, sung 
behind the scene is in no way remarkable. I should have 
said the same of Carlo's aria, ' mio castel paterno^ if it 
had not been sung with so much warmth and verve by 
Gardoni, Gardoni represents the nobly criminal brother — 
the heroic brigand ; Coletti, the cowardly and hypocritical 
brother, who also smgs an air, with ^doloncello obbligato. 
Then ' Amalia ' appears, in her turn, impersonated by Jenny 
Lind, and preceded by a little piece for wind-instruments,, 
much better than the air which follows — ' Lo sguardo avca 
dcgli angdi.' Jenny Lind is truly to be pitied, for having 
been induced to sing such an air as this, which is neither 
written for her voice, nor for the voice of any one else. I 
willingly pass an eulogium on the duet sung by the father, 
' Massimiliano Moor ' and ' Amalia.' The father being 
Lablache, and ' Amalia ' Jenny Lind, you can readily 
understand that they executed this duet ^vith a rare per- 
fection. The quartet which terminates the act also contains 
some very good things. The singers, and the composer, were 
recalled viith. fracas. 

" In the second act occurs the principal piece, the grand 
scene sung by Jenny Lind, in which I must say that Verdi 
has shown himself more vocal than usual. The piece begins 
with a largo, full of expression — ' Tio del mio Carlo al seno ' 
— and ends with a triumphant Cabaletta — ' Carlo rive/ 
One must have heard Jenny Lind, in order to form an idea of 
the talent she displayed and the effect she produced, in these 
two strongly-contrasted portions of the scene, in which, on 

140 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. ix. 

learning that Carlo lives, she passes from the most profound 
sorrow to the most lively joy. It would be impossible to 
carry dramatic energy farther than this, and at the same time 
to practise the finenesses of Art with a mastery more exquisite 
and more certain. Here, the enthusiasm, the delirium, the 
fury, could no longer restrain itself; the whole audience rose, 
to recall the cantatrice, and to compel her to repeat the air, 
however fatiguing, however impossible might be such a toiir 
clc force — and Jenny Lind had simply to resign herself to it. 
She could only accept her triumph in patience, happy, twice 
happy, to be able to carry it out to the end. 

" After this air, comes a duet for ' Amalia ' and ' Fran- 
cesco ' : then follow choruses of Brigands which resemble the 
quadrilles of Musard ; and these choruses finish the second 

" After the second act, there is a third ; and, after the third, 
a, fourth ; but I will ask your permission to say nothing 
about these, because it seemed to me that they were pervaded 
by a clecrescendo throughout, and that I should be compelled to 
recur too frequently to the ssucae formula, which, in the end, 
would be equally Avearisome to my readers and myself. 

" The final trio, sung by Jenny Lind, Gardoni, and La- 
blache, is mere moonlight, compared with the final trio in 
Ernani — if you admit that to be the sun." * 

It is evident, from the consentient tone which underlies the 
whole of these critiques, that / Mcisnadicri, though it 
furnished Mademoiselle Lind with the material for one of her 
most brilliant triumphs, was, in itself, a fiasco. In La Figlia 
del Rcggimcnto, she triumphed so completely over the inherent 
weakness of the lihrctto and the commonplace character of 
the music, that the piece retained its place on the stage as 
long as she herself remained to sing in it. But, in Za Figlia 
■del Rcggimcnto, she represented the entire Opera. She was 
its life, and soul ; the w^hole interest of it was centred in her 
impersonation of the little Vivandierc ; the other characters 
were merest puppets. The public thronged the theatre, to 
hear Jenny Lind — not to see Donizetti's Opera. 

* Translated from the Gazette Musicale. (Paris, Aug. 1, 1847.) 

1847.] " / MASNADIEBL" 141 

In the Masnadieri, tlie case was widely different. She could 
have saved it, no doubt, if she could have absorbed the whole 
interest of the piece in her own part. But this was im- 
possible. In so far as the plot of Die Bmibcr is concerned, 
the part of " Amalia " is of very secondary importance, com- 
pared with that of " Massimiliano," or even with that of 
" Carlo " or " Francesco." Schiller himself has invested his 
heroine with no predominating traits of character which could 
raise her to a position of all-absorbing interest in the develop- 
ment of his story — no strongly-marked individuality which 
could enable even the genius of ]\Iademoiselle Lind to save 
the Opera, by clothing a comparatively colourless part with 
a nobler conception than it was intrinsically capable of 

And so it was, that I Masnadieri survived but the three 
representations courteously accorded to a succes d'estime, and 
furnished but a sorry substitute for the promised Tcmiiesta of 

142 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. cii. x. 



The last new part in which Mdlle. Lincl appeared, during the 
London season of 1847, was that of " Susanna," in Mozart's 
ever- welcome Nozze di Figaro. 

The change, from the sombre gloom of Schiller's ghastly 
tragedy, to the airy brightness of the most perfect lyric 
comedy that the school of Vienna had ever given to the 
world, was a startling one indeed. A more convincing proof 
of the versatility of the singer's genius could scarcely have 
been given, had such a proof been needed. The contrast be- 
tween the sorrows of the sorely-tried " Amina," and the brave 
fight of " Maria " against the storm of adversity with which 
she was threatened, was marked enough to bring to light a 
thousand delicate shades of individual treatment of which the 
most accomplished delineator of character in the world might 
justly have been proud. But, what was that, compared with 
the opposite colouring needed for the illustration of two such 
•characters as those of " Susanna " and " Amalia " ! Two true 
women, so differently moulded, by the circumstances under 
which they were placed, that they could scarcely be supposed 
to entertain a thought or feeling in common ; to be moved by 
a common sympathy ; or yield to the dominion of a common 
passion. Two human creatures, so separated by the accident 
of their lives, that they could scarcely have been more unlike 
«each other, had they been born on different planets. 

To the commonplace actress, these distinctions of character 

1847.] " LE NOZZE DI FIGARO." 143 

present no difficulty at all. Such an interpreter finds it as easy 
to paint, in commonplace colours, the external characteristics 
of two stage heroines belonging to different categories, as to 
dress for their respective parts ; as easy to simulate the ravings 
of despair, as to laugh at the perpetration of a successful 
practical joke. 

But, the actress who identifies herself with the character 
she impersonates ; who feels the horror she pretends to feel ; 
enjoys the fun she laughs at ; forms her own ideal of the inner 
life of which her action supplies the external expression ; 
how is she to paint, on two successive evenings, two cha- 
racters so diametrically opposed to each other ? 

No one knows. The question is one that genius alone can 
answer. Certain it is, that the most terrible impersonator of 
tragedy is frequently the brightest and most genial comedian. 
That the features capable of expressing the deepest horror, 
can also wear the sweetest and most winning smile. That 
the merriest laugh may be uttered by the voice which, no 
longer ago than yesterday, melted us to tears by its sorrowful 
wail. It was so with Lablache. It was so with Jenny Lind. 
And never were these' opposite qualities more strikingly 
illustrated than in / Masnadieri, and Lc Nozze di Figaro. 

The music of Mozart needs a special talent for its perfect 
interpretation. The purity of its melody, its depth of ex- 
pression, and the tender grace of its delicate inflections, are 
qualities which call for no ordinary, no coldly conventional 
treatment, though there are not wanting singers, and players, 
who would have us believe that the slightest deviation from 
the rigidity of mechanical precision is an unpardonable fault, 
in the interpretation of music of the purely classical school. 

Mdlle. Lind did not think so. She sang the music of 
Mozart, as she felt quite certain that Mozart himself would 
have %vished to hear it sung. She had studied it profoundly, 
and frankly identified herself with its spirit, both in conuec- 

144 JENNY LIND. ' [bk. vti. ch. x. 

tion witli the stage, and with the concert-room. So great was 
her admiration of the master, that she always spoke of him 
as " the divine Mozart " {der gottliche Mozart). Of her read- 
ing of the part of " Donna Anna " we have already spoken, 
at some length, in the words of a German critic well able to 
form a just and accurate opinion upon the subject. Her inter- 
pretation of that of " Susanna " was not a whit less perfect, 
less original, or less conscientiously true to nature. She had 
formed her own idea of the character that best befitted the 
confidential waiting-maid of the Contessa Almaviva ; and, 
from the first scene to the last, she accommodated every look, 
every gesture, every tone of her voice, to its consistent and 
logical development. " Susanna," as she understood the 
part, united in herself the faithful servant and the 
loyal friend — the honest-hearted domestic, whom no 
amount of specious persuasion could induce to betray the 
mistress she served from pure affection, and the virtuous 
maiden who herself would brook no betrayal on the part of 
the lover to whom she had solemnly plighted her faith. It 
was a difficult character to reconcile with the fun that per- 
vades so many scenes of the comedy. But, the two features 
were reconciled, with a success that could not be doubted. 

A critic who carefully analysed Lc Nozzc cU Figaro some 
forty years after its production, arrived at the conclusion, 
that Mozart had " changed into real passion the trifling inci- 
dents which, in Beaumarchais' comedy, only amused the 
amiable inhabitants of the Castle of Aguas Frescas." 

A later writer says : " In the comedy of Beaumarchais, we 
find the adventures of the inmates of Aguas Frescas infinitely 
amusing, and we are delighted with their lively manners, and 
the wit and satire of their conversation ; but we care as little 
for them as they seem to care for one another. Mozart has 
given them hearts, and made them the objects of our sympathy, 
by inspiring them with feeling, and passion." ; 

1847.] " LE NOZZE DI FIGAROS 145 

Whether we admit the truth of these hypotheses or not, it 
is certain that Mozart has invested the characters with a 
tenderness of expression to which it would be difficult to do 
full justice in the spoken dialogue even of Beaumarchais. 
And it was upon this tenderness that Mdlle. Lind seized, as 
the basis of her conception ; bringing it prominently forward, 
at every fitting opportunity, yet without entirely sacrificing to 
it that lighter vein of feeling in the treatment of which Beau- 
marchais was inimitable. And we cannot doubt that, in 
adopting this course, she fulfilled Mozart's intentions, both in 
the spirit, and the letter. 

Though never entirely lost, there can be no doubt that 
" Mozartian tradition," as it is called, has, for many years 
past, been very much on the decline, both in Germany, and 
in England — the only countries in which it can be said to 
have ever really flourished. If not actually forgotten, in 
Vienna, and in London, it is only by a hair's breadth that it 
has escaped oblivion. Setting aside all questions concerning 
the inner life of the music, how many singers, at the present 
day, know how to render the appogiatura of the eighteenth 
century, as Mozart and his contemporaries intended it to be 
rendered ? How many maestri know how to instruct them 
in difficult or doubtful cases? In 1825, the only sur- 
viving member of the original cast of Le Nozzc di Figaro 
was the English tenor, Michael Kelly, who sang the part 
of " Don Curzio," under Mozart's personal direction, 
when the Opera was produced at Prague, in 1786. "I 
have seen it performed, at different times, in other coun- 
tries," he says, " and well, too ; but no more to compare with 
its original performance than light is to darkness. All the 
original performers had the advantage of the instruction of 
the composer, who transfused into their minds his inspired 
meaning. I shall never forget his animated little countenance, 
when lighted up with the glowing rays of genius. It is as 


146 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. x. 

impossible to describe it, as it would be to paint sun- 
beams." * 

Michael Kelly, though he had his faults, was an enthu- 
siastic lover of Art ; and he did his best to diffuse, in England, 
in a very difficult age, the teaching he had received from 
Mozart, in Vienna. In Germany, the traditions were pre- 
served, with equal purity, by Eochlitz ; who was seventeen 
years old when Le Nozzc di Figaro was produced in Vienna, 
and quite able to appreciate its beauty. Eochlitz died in 
1842, bequeathing the true Mozartian traditions to a younger 
generation of critics, foremost of whom stood Eellstab, and 
the two firm friends, Franz Hauser, and Moritz Hauptmann 
— as " Handelian tradition " was bequeathed, in England, by 
Joah Bates, to Sir George Smart. On the stage, it was 
preserved by certain singers of highest type ; notably, by 
Mesdames Milder-Hauptmann, Nanette Schechner, Stoeckel- 
Heinefetter, and Schroeder-Devrient. On the Italian stage, 
as represented in London and Paris, it held its ground 
with honour. Lablache was never known to deviate, 
by a hair's breadth, from its purity ; and if Eubini, and 
Tamburini, and Madame Persiani, were a little bolder than 
he, in the matter of ornamentation, it must in justice be 
conceded that their fioritura was always in strict accordance 
with the spirit of the text. And Mdlle. Lind, in her turn^ 
studied the subject cm fond. Not once did the true nature of 
an appoggiatura, or the scope of a portamento, or the need of a 
change of tempo, or the introduction of a fitting cadenza, 
escape her keen observation. All this concerned the letter of 
the text, her conscientious adherence to the purity of which 
was as remarkable as her reverence for its spirit. Yet, not 
for a moment did this rigorous exactitude, this unswerving 
fidelity to the composer's intentions, prevent her from giving 
full scope to her imagination — from " making the part her 
* ' Reminiscences of Micliael Kelly.' (London, 1825.) 

1847.] " LE NOZZE DI FIGAIiO." 147 

own." Neither as an actress, nor as a singer, did she deviate, 
in the slightest detail, from the path indicated to her in the 
score. Every mark of expression, every dynamic sign, every 
indication of fonjjo, was a law to her. She thankfully 
accepted its guidance ; she was as submissive as a child ; no 
thought of resistance to the written law ever entered her 
heart. But, the service she yielded was a reasonable one. 
She could not have submitted more mllingly, if Mozart him- 
self had been there to claim her obedience. She could not 
have been less fettered, or more original, if she herself had 
composed the Opera. 

Hear what Mr. Lumley himself says of her : — 

'•' Since it was impossible to entertain any sound hope of 
attraction for Yerdi's last new Opera — / Masnadicri — she 
returned to her wonted triumphs (as did the theatre to its 
wonted ' crushes '), by resuming the parts in which, now, as 
heretofore, she was sure to be rapturously hailed by the public. 
To them was added the ' Susanna ' of Lc Nozze cli Figaro, to 
which she brought, not only her customary and recognised 
qualities as an accomplished singer, but the true Mozartian 
traditions. With these, her early training had rendered her 
familiar, and subsequent study had confirmed the lesson. 

" It was new to the public to listen to a singer so thoroughly 
imbued with the genius of Mozart, in one of his chcfs-cVoeuvre. 
Unlike Italian singers, who considered that, in faithfully 
executing Mozart, they sacrificed themselves to the exigencies 
of an old-fashioned English predilection, Jenny Lind revelled 
in his music. Her whole soul was in the work. Nor did 
Lablache, Staudigl, Coletti, or Madame Castellan fail to 
increase, by their valuable performance, the completeness with 
which Le Nozze di Figaro was given during the season." * 

Hear what a critic says, in one of the contemporary Art 
journals : — • 

" On Tuesday night, Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro was pro- 
duced at Her Majesty's Theatre, in a house crowded to the 

* * Reminiscences of the Opera,' pp. 193-194. 

148 JENNY LIND. [bk. vn. ch. x. 

ceiling ; Mdlle. Lind filling the role of ' Susanna ; ' Madame 
Castellan that of the ' Countess ; ' Signor Coletti, that of the 
' Count ; ' Herr Staudigl, that of ' Figaro ; ' and Signor La- 
blache, that of ' Don Bartolo.' Mdlle. Lind sang ' Susanna ' 
with classical purity ; and acted in her most fascinating 
manner. The duet, ' SulV aria,' and the air, ' Dch vieni noii 
iarclar' were both rapturously encored ; and an unaccom- 
panied morceau by Jenny Lind, Madame Grimaldi, Herr 
Staudigl, and Signor Lablache, in the second act, was sung 
three times, amidst a furore of applause. The Opera was re- 
ceived with approbation which, ever and anon, burst into 
ecstasy and enthusiasm." * 

The " unaccompanied morceau," which " was sung three 
times," was a few bars of recitativo sccco, really in the third 
act (according to the original disposition of the scenes), which, 
as the unaccompanied recitative is scarcely ever printed in 
any editions of the work save the full orchestral score, is un- 
likely to be known to the generality of our readers ; for which 
reason we give the passage here, exactly as it stands in the 
full score published by Messrs. Breitkopf and Hartel of 
Leipzig, but, with the soprano part transposed into the treble 
clef, for the benefit of the general reader, t 

This seems simple enough — and is simple enough. So 
simple, that, in the mouths of four commonplace singers, it 
might very easily pass for a graceful little harmonised 
cadence, at the close of a passage of ordinary recitative. But, 
Mdlle. Lind did not regard it in that light. Ably supported 
by her colleagues, she sang it in conscientious accordance 
with the indications furnished by Mozart, in the score : 
that is to say, with gradually increasing interest, from the 
beginning of the solo passage culminating in a pause of 
moderate length upon the dotted quaver, F ; in extreme 
piano, from the part at which the voices first join in 

* Illustrated London Neivs, August 21, 184:7. 

t Althougli the passage was sung without accompaniment, a thorough- 
bass is given with it in the score. 





-f^— ^ 





f — f —^ 





Chi al par di me con - ten - ta ? Chi al par di me con 






Don Bart. 



— f — 



— ^- 

— ^:-^ -^- 



— ^ — 


V;^ ^ 


Vii. 1^ ■ - 


tcu ■ 

■ ta? 

I - - 


I - - o! 

^i«^' 1 





^_^ 1 



















E schiatti il sig - nor Con-te, al gus-to mi 








I- o! E schiatti il sig- nor Cou-te, al gus-to 

Don Bart. / 



-^— «t- 







E schiatti il sig - nor Con-te, al gns - to 




g: r ^-s-^- f fi^gJ^ 









E schiatti il sig - nor Con-te, al gus - to 
cres. f _^_ 







b b5 

a be [t 

^4 b7 

150 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. x. 

four-part harmony, with a crescendo to \h.Q forte indicated at 
the word " Conte " ; in extreme inano, again, from that part 
to the end, with a long pause on the antepenultimate D ; and, 
on the penultimate, C, one of those wonderful shakes which 
she alone could execute — prolonged, to a degree which made 
it seem as if the supply of breath were simply inexhaustible — 
beginning pianissimo, yet ever diminishing in tone, to the 
gentlest warble, which, nevertheless, was heard, with perfect 
distinctness, to the remotest limits of the enormous salle — no 
hazy tremolo, of uncertain intonation, but a rapid alternation 
of C, and D, in perfect tune throughout, and growing ever 
fainter and fainter, till it faded into the final B flat with a 
ravishing charm too subtle for description. 

The effect was electrical. It lingers in our memory, as we 
write of it, as clearly as if we had heard it. not four and 
forty years ago, but yesterday. No one had ever heard the 
passage so interpreted before — indeed, it was manifestly 
impossible that it could ever have been so interpreted 
upon any previous occasion within the memory of man ; 
for, this was the first time that Mdlle. Lind had ever sung 
the part in Italian, and the place of the rceitativo secco 
was supplied, on the German stage, by spoken dialogue. 
No wonder, then, that the audience were spell-bound ! No 
wonder that the passage had to be " sung three times ! " 
The storm of applause was overwhelming. Cries of delight, 
of admiration, of astonishment, were heard on every side. 
Yet, after all, what right had any one to feel surprised ? The 
singer had simply availed herself of the opportunity provided 
for her in the text. But, what a genius was needed, for the 
creation of the opportunity, on the one hand, and, on the 
other, for the intuitive perception which enabled the inter- 
preter to seize upon it ! 

( 151 ) 



The clause in the Lumley contract which prevented Mdlle. 
Lind from taking part in any public concerts, during the 
London season, proved to be a very fortunate one ; and the 
effect of Mendelssohn's remonstrance, and the explanation 
which followed, gave unalloyed satisfaction, in the end, to all 

To have added to the fatigue and excitement of the Opera 
season, even by an occasional concert, would have been in the 
highest degree imprudent, had an occasional concert been 
possible. But it was not. Had the outside world been once 
permitted to believe in the possibility of hearing the beloved 
artist in the concert-room, it would have tolerated no attempt 
at compromise. No half measures would have satisfied that 
not altogether uninfluential section of the British public, to 
which the difference in price between uncomfortable standing- 
room in Fops' Alley, and a convenient back seat at the 
Hanover Square Eooms, was a matter for serious considera- 
tion ; to say nothing of the crush of excellent people of another 
order, who would have found the air of Her Majesty's Theatre 
less congenial than the purer atmosphere of Exeter Hall. In 
the then excited state of public feeling, a share in the pro- 
gramme of one single concert would have raised a clamour 
for concerts everywhere ; for engagements of one kind or 
another for every day in the week ; demands wliich it would 

* See pp. 8, 12, and 13. 

152 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. xi. 

liave been impossible to meet, and the refusal of which would 
have led to infinite dissatisfaction and annoyance. 

Happily, all this turmoil was saved, by the exhaustive ven- 
tilation of the question which had already taken place, and 
its consequent settlement before the season began. It was 
well known that all public concerts were prohibited, by a 
stipulation duly signed, sealed, and delivered, in the engage- 
ment at the Opera. 

But Mendelssohn's prudence had overcome another, and a 
more serious phase of the difficulty, which, though it would 
beyond all doubt have been removed, when the season for its 
consideration arrived, was far better settled in advance. He 
had suggested, in his letter of October 31, 1846, that the pro- 
hibitive clause should not be understood to extend to concerts 
given by the Queen's command. Mr. Lumley had naturally 
agreed to this, as a matter of course ; and, between the 28th 
of May, and the 9th of August, Mdlle. Lind sang twice, by 
command of Her Majesty, at Buckingham Palace, and once at 
Osborne ; besides taking part in a concert given by Queen 
Adelaide, at Marlborough House, at which Her Majesty and 
the Prince Consort were present. 

At Buckingham Palace on the 28th of May Mdlle. Lind 
sang two of those Swedish songs in which she was un- 
rivalled, accompanying herself upon the piano. They were 
new to her Eoyal audience, and by the spirit which spoke 
through the exquisite softness and finish of the execution, 
they went, there as well as elsewhere, home to every heart. 
The depth of the impression she produced was shown by 
the profound silence while she sang, a silence not accorded 
to the other singers, talented though they were, and by the 
murmur of applause which followed, when she ceased. 

Twelve days later, she sang at Marlborough House, at a 
concert given by the Queen Dowager, at which the Queen 
and Prince Consort were present. It was given in the Hall, 


in wliich her voice was heard to great advantage. Here, as 
at the previous concert, Her Majesty conversed with Mdlle. 
Lind for some time, and spoke w^ith great warmth both of her 
singing and her acting. Of Lablache Mdlle. Lind spoke to 
the Queen in the warmest terms. ' Er ist,' she said, ' loie ein 
Vaterfiir uns alle.' 

Again on the last day of June she had the honour 
of singing before Her Majesty and the Prince at Buckingham 
Palace. On this occasion the purity, the sweetness and 
softness of her voice were much dwelt upon by the Queen, 
as well as the charming and unpretending grace of her 
manners, Nor did the remarkable delicacy and expressive- 
ness of her touch on the piano escape notice. King Leopold 
and his Queen were present, and shared in the fascination 
which the artist and the woman seem to have excited in the 
Eoyal circle. King Leopold told her, she must not act with 
too much feeling, lest she should over-fatigue herself. To 
this she replied, ' Ich kann nicht anders thun als ich fulih! 
On the same evening she said in reply to a hope expressed 
by Her Majesty, that she would see her next year, ' Ich vnll 
die Biilinc vcrlasscn ' — what she desired being to go and work 
'fur die Wohlthdtigkcit,' as ' une grandc carrierc,' had no 
interest for her. 

On the 9th of August, along with Signor Lablache, Mdlle. 
Lind was invited to sing before the Queen and Prince 
Consort at Osborne. On this occasion she sang several 
Swedish songs ; four songs by Mendelssohn, ' Uehcr die Berge' 
' FrilJdingslied,' ' Auf JViederseken,' and ' Sonntagslied,' and 
with Lablache two duets from ' Le Nozzc di Figaro.' Mdlle. 
Lind had always refused to take money for singing at the 
Eoyal concerts. She was greatly moved when the Queen, 
calling her aside, presented her with a bracelet, saying, as 
she did so, "I must again express not only my admiration 
but my respect for you," words more precious far to her 

154 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. xi. 

than the costliest present. In the course of the conversation 
that ensued she again expressed her intention of quitting the 
stage ; but, in answer to Her Majesty's expression of regret 
at the loss this would be to art, she replied that she would 
certainly come back again to England, whether she carried 
her intention into execution or not.* 

It is known to everybody ; and we need not, therefore, fear 
to be accused of anticipating later events by alluding to the 
circumstance here; that, however brilliant her triumphs 
on the stage may have been — and they were certainly as 
brilliant in England as at Berlin, or Vienna, if not even 
more so — they did not represent the whole of her Art-life. 
However high may have been the level to which she raised 
the ideal perfection of dramatic singing — of that union of the 
most exquisite vocal technique with the most finished expres- 
sion of dramatic truth, which, bearing ever in mind the neces- 
sary correlation of the twin Arts to one another, embodied 
the truest and the most exalted conception of the mission of 
the Opera that has ever yet been formed — however great 
may have been the work she accomplished in this particular 
field — it was not here that she won the heart of all England. 
It is quite true that Her Majesty's Theatre was crowded 
night after night. Delicate ladies fought for their places ; 
and frenzied gentlemen pushed in front of them, touching 
the very verge of loyalty and duty, in their eagerness 
to secure for themselves the good position they ought 
to have offered to the ladies who were as anxious to 
obtain it as themselves. The enthusiasm manifested 
on the night of the debut was, certainly, no ephemeral 
manifestation of spasmodic excitement, for it continued 
to the end of the season. The admiration for the artist, 
the respect for the pure and holy life she was known 

* For our information in regard to these concerts we are indebted to the 
notes referred to in the note, p. 71, ante. 


to be living, the reverence for her as a true and noble-hearted 
woman, all these were won for her, on the night of her first 
appearance before an English audience — and she never lost 
them, till the day of her death. But, the love that made the 
name of Jenny Lind a " household word " in every English 
homestead, by every English hearth, in every dwelling in 
which the English language was spoken — the long- 
enduring LOVE was won in the concert-room, and at the 
Oratorio. Not even 'Ah non crcdea,' or ' Beh vieni non 
tardar,' commanded, on the stage, the depth of affection 
that was yielded, in an instant, to the * Swedish Songs,' 
in the concert-room, or the still deeper feeling born of 
* I know that my Redeemer liveth,' and ' Holy, Holy, Holy' 
in the Cathedral. It was through Elijah and Messiah, through 
the Licder of Mendelssohn and Lindblad, and the Siuedish 
Melodies, and the thousand treasures that appeared, later on_, 
in the concert programmes — that the beloved " Swedish 
Nightingale " sang her way into the great heart of the 
British people ; and it is therefore of peculiar interest that 
it should be through the warm and glowing words of our 
Queen that we now hear of the first concert at which she 
ever sang in the country in which she was afterwards 

Truly, the privilege that has been so graciously accorded 
to us — and without which thia chapter in the life of the 
subject of the present Memoir could never have been 
adequately written — is one for which the most grateful 
thanks we can offer fall equally short of our duty, our loyalty, 
and our heart-felt desire. 

156 JENNY LIND. [ek. vii. ch. xii. 



The business of the season was heavy and exacting, and its 
excitement fatiguing, even to the strong ; but, like the 
music of a grand dramatic scena, it had its " points of repose," 
interspersed among the agitato passages which formed the 
basis of its general construction. Let us hear what our 
friend, Mrs. Grote, has to tell us about those welcome little 

" The summer of 1847 passed delightfully," she says, in 
the ]\1S. Memoir from which we have so frequently quoted, 
" divided, as it was, between theatrical labours and triumphs, 
and passages of recreation. Among the latter, the most 
agreeable to her were, repeated visits to our own country 
home at Burnham, about three miles from Slough, where she 
essayed riding on horseback ; an exercise in Avliich she after- 
wards came to take so great delight, that she bought a couple 
of saddle-horses of her own, and rode whenever opportunity 

" When she could not spare time to go to Burnham, we 
often spent a long summer day in Wimbledon Park, taking a 
cold collation there, in a kind of chalet, placed at her disposal 
by Mr. Barber Beaumont, the proprietor. On these occasions, 
my brother Edward, myself, and sometimes Mr. Grote, would 
accompany her. We all rambled about, enjoying the 
repose and unmolested retirement the place afforded. The 
nightingales sang, in May and June, in the copse ; and to 
these Jenny always listened with interest and pleasure. On 
one fine evening, as we were leaning over a gate, listening to 
one, the bird stopped. 

1847.] IN TEE PROVINCES. 157 

" ' There ! ' said Jenny, ' he has seen us ! Now, that is 
jnst like me. I should have done the same, if I had caught 
anyone intruding on my solitude. And, indeed, those who 
have compared me to the nightingale were not far wrong; 
for I have a great deal of the nightingale in me.' 

" When at Burnham, she used to study the music of her 
new roles among the old beeches, where I have often found 
her, seated on the clubbed root of one, with the book laid 
open upon her knee, and warbling, in a low tone, the music 
of the score. 

" Mr. Lumley gave a fete cliampetre, in the course of the 
season, at his villa near Putney ; and Jenny consented to go 
there, provided I would accompany her as cliapei'one. I 
accordingly cut short a visit I was making to the Isle of 
Wight with my nieces, and hastened to London for that 
purpose. We duly made our appearance at the fete ; but 
Jenny was so disturbed and discomposed by the staring and 
incessant curiosity displayed by the company with regard to 
her, that she was anything but comfortable during the two 
or three hours of her stay. Mr. Lumley did everything he 
possibly could to restore her good humour ; even to the 
setting apart of a pavilion (to wliich only Admiral Sir 
Edward Codrington and a very few others were admitted), 
for our party to dine in. But, she only desired 'to get 
away ' ; and we accordingly returned, towards nightfall, to 
Clairville. ISTo sooner were we within its walls, than Jenny 
appeared in a new phase. Instead of allowing me to continue 
my road homewards, she said I ' must stay to tea ; ' then, ' to 
supper.' My brother and I were placed in the seats of 
honour in her little drawing-room. Lights were brought, in 
abxmdance. The resources of the menage were strained to 
produce various refreshments ; Jenny doing the honours, 
and waiting upon us, with infinite vivacity and grace, and in 
the highest spirits. I was beyond measure diverted by her 
playful vagaries, which she finished, at last, by sitting down 
to the piano, and singing her native melodies with bewitching 

"The night was now wearing away, but still I was not 
allowed to depart. A messenger was despatched, who returned, 
in an hour or so, with my night-dresses; and I was 
installed in Jenny's own room, which was lighted up with 
numerous wax candles, while she retired to a small bedroom 
adjoining it. 

158 JENNY LIND. [ek. vii. ch. xii. 

" This evening — one amongst many delightful passages 
of the summer of 1847 — often rises to my memory, as 
exemplifying the humour of this singular being in a very 
remarkable light." 

No one enjoys a holiday so thoroughly as the artist, whose 
brain has been too long strained at abnormally high pressure. 
Mendelssohn enjoyed his holidays with the artless playfulness 
of a child, making no attempt whatever to conceal the depth 
of his innocent delight — and Mdlle. Lind did the same. 
But, the work of the " season " had not yet come to an end. 
Much had already been done ; but, much more remained to 
be accomplished, before she could really take a prolonged 
and undivided rest. 

By a singular anomaly, so frequently repeated that its 
omission, at this period of our history, would have seemed 
more strange than its recurrence, the brilliancy of her 
successes was invariably found to bear an inverse proportion 
to the depth of her previous despondency. 

We have seen her, at Berlin, reduced to the verge of 
despair, before the evening of her triumphant debut in the 
grand new Opera-House. 

At Vienna, the appearance of the salle of the Theater an 
der Wien so terrified her, that but for Herr Hauser's 
remonstrances, she would have fled the city, and left her 
engagement with Herr Pokorny unfulfilled, in the firm belief 
that her voice was not powerful enough to enable her to 
carry out the task she had undertaken to perform. 

And again, in London, she had gone so far as to entreat 
her friend Mrs. Grote to intercede with the manager for 
the reversal of a contract which, she thought, made a demand 
upon her powers to which they were wholly unequal. 

Yet, at Berlin, she succeeded in convincing the most 
fastidious critics in the world of the reality of her genius, 
before the curtain fell upon the first act of her favourite 

1847.] 7.V THE PROVINCES. 159 

Norma. At Vienna, the delighted Austriaus unhorsed her 
carriage, in the hope that they might be permitted to drag 
her home in triumph. And in London, she won her way, in 
one single evening, to a position which no prima donna had 
ever previously occupied. 

But, when the London season came to a close, her successes 
in this country were only just beginning. Her fame had 
already penetrated to the remotest corners of the kingdom. 
The inhabitants of all the great towns were burning with 
impatience to hear her, that they might judge for themselves 
whether the rumoui's that had reached them were exaggerated, 
or not. And those who had already heard her at Her 
Majesty's Theatre were longing to hear her again, in the 
distant counties to which they were returning after the 
excitement of the season was over. So a long and fatiguing 
provincial tour was organised without delay ; and two days 
only after her last performance of La Sonnamhula at Her 
Majesty's Theatre, on the 21st of August, she made her first 
appearance in " the provinces " at a concert, at Brighton, on 
the 23rd ; sang at another concert, at Birmingham, on 
the 26th ; gave two performances of Za Sonnamhula, at Man- 
chester, on the 28th, and 30th, and two of La Figlia del 
Rcggimcnto, on the 2nd and 4th of September ; appeared 
once in each of the same two operas, at Liverpool, on the 6 th 
and 8th of September ; and followed up these dramatic repre- 
sentations by concerts at Hull, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Perth, 
Norwich, Bristol, Bath, and finally Exeter, when the tour 
concluded with two concerts, on the 1st and 2ud of 

To give a detailed account of these performances, seriatim, 
however interesting they may have been at the time, could 
only be wearisome, after the innumerable triumphs we have 
already described ; but, Mrs. Grote's general account of the 
tour is too interesting to be omitted. 

160 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. xii. 

" At the end of an engagement of unparalleled success," 
she says, in her Memoir, " Jenny proceeded on a tour in the 
provinces, in which she was accompanied by my brother, 
Mr. Edward Lewin, who acted as manager of her affairs, and 
directed her relations with the concert-speculators, and whose 
agency, on this occasion, was extremely valuable to her. She 
knew nothing of the English language, in the first place ; so 
that she could do little in the way of transacting her artistic 
business. And, moreover, she was wholly ignorant of this 
country ; of its provincial manners : of the mode of getting 
from one town to another ; in fine, she was thorouglily help- 
less. She would not hire herself to an impresario, until she 
had made the experiment of how far she could succeed by 
managing on her own account — money being, at that time, 
so great an object with her. Her attendant could speak only 
Swedish, which made it the more essential that some friend 
should accompany the ladies, to serve as interpreter on the 
journey, and at the inns. Mr. Lewin was perfectly at home 
in the Swedish language, from having resided for many years 
at Stockholm ; and he likewise spoke French well enough to 
communicate with the foreign artists included in the company 
which Jenny had associated with her for these provincial 
performances. Their intimacy was one of great con- 
fidence, and warm admiration for Jenny's many great and 
engaging gifts doubtless filled the breast of my brother 
Edward ; while the sentiments she entertained towards him 
partook of the early companion, the able and serviceable 
secretary, the lively sharer in her new life, the handsome 
•clever cavalier to ride by her side, the 'go-between' with 
tiresome applicants for her bounty, or with servants. He 
was her playfellow, as it were, in the hours of relaxation ; 
her escort to and from the theatre, and the concert room. 
And, beyond all this, he was my brother — a title, which, 
loving me as she came to do during our familiar intercourse, 
conferred an additional charm upon her friendship with 
Edward." * 

And' so it came to pass, that, aided by the business 
capacities and firm moral support of this trusty friend, 
Mdlle. Lind devoted the months of August and September to 
a series of provincial performances, undertaken on her own 

* Prom Mrs. Grote's MS. • Memoir.' 

1847.] IN TEE PROVINCES. 161 

account, and everywhere successful. She had secured the 
assistance of Signer Gardoni, Signor F. Lablache and 
his talented wife, and a competent orchestra, conducted 
by Mr. Balfe ; and, in company with these popular and 
thoroughly conscientious artists, she extended her journey to 
Scotland, and delighted her audiences, wherever she appeared. 
She was feted everywhere; and everywhere made friends. 
But, in one particular town, the reception she met with was 
so cordial, and the friendships she cemented were so true and 
lasting, that we cannot refrain from giving a circumstantial 
account of the event, which, by its influence upon her later 
life, attained sufficient importance to merit more careful 
consideration than we could accord to it in the closing pages 
of a desultory chapter like the present. 


162 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. xiii. 



While still busily occupied, in London, with her performances 
at Her Majesty's Theatre, Mdlle. Lind received the following 
letter from Dr. Stanley, the Bishop of Norwich : — 

" 38, Lower Brook Street, 
" July 10th, 1847. 

" The Bishop of Norwich has just heard that Miss Jenny 
Lind has consented to come to Norwich in September next. 
He and Mrs. Stanley therefore lose no time in expressing the 
hope that she, during her stay, will become their guest at the 

" The Bishop has only to add, that it will be a great 
gratification to him to make acquaintance with one whose 
high character and principles, from all he has heard, are on 
a par with her superior talents. 

" Miss Jenny Lind, 

" Clara Villa, 

" Old Brompton." 

This invitation Mdlle. Lind accepted ; and, on the evening 
of Tuesday, the 21st of September, she duly arrived at the 
Palace, where she was received with a welcome which is 
pleasantly described in the following letter, written, by 
Mrs. Stanley, to her sister, Mrs. Augustus Hare : — 

"Palace, Thursday, 23i-d September, 1847. 

"Dearest M., 

" On Tuesday evening she was to come. I did not expect 
lier to dinner, luckily ; for, in the middle of dinner came a 
telegraphic despatch from Ely, that Mdlle. Lind was 

1847.] AT NORWICH. 163 

detained, and could not be here before 8.45. We had 
Mr. Buck and the Choristers, Sedgwick and his party, and 
others, to take their chance of seeing her. At nine o'clock, 
Philips came in very solemnly to me, to say that Mdlle. Lind 
had arrived, and begged to see me, but was too tired to 
appear. The bells were ringing, and the whole town in an 
uproar. I went to her room — the Abbey Eoom — and found 
a poor creature in the last stage of exhaustion, wiping the 
dew from her brow, and looking ready to sink into the earth 
with fatigue — and no wonder ! She had sung in Edinburgh, 
on Monday, till three o'clock, got into the railway at four, 
and travelled all night. We left her to go to bed, taking her 
beautiful little black spaniel to quiet the company. 

" The next morning, at breakfast, she appeared. Certainly, 
every word we have heard of her is verified — the respectful 
manner, the humility, the perfect simplicity. Her first 
appearance is singularly plain ; but, every moment you see 
her, this lessens. We spent the morning listening on the 
.stairs to the warbling that came out of her room. She has a 
dame de compagnic, a sort of YvoM fcmme dc chambre, who 
sleeps in her room, and goes everywhere with her. They 
dined together, at three o'clock, and then she retired to 
repose, (?) and we did not see her again till she came out 
ready for the concert. 

" She looked very nervous, and said she always felt so on 
first appearing in a new place. S. Andrew's Hall was full, 
from end to end. 

" I never saw anything so beautiful as her manner of 
coming forward on the orchestra, and receiving the tliunders 
of welcome with which she was received. It was a mixture 
of modesty, dignity, and grateful feeling: yet perfectly 
unruffled. And then it was so interesting to watch, each time 
as she came on, the cloud over her brow raised ; and, when 
she came to her own Swedish melodies, she looked as if 
she had got home — her countenance lighted up with cheer- 
ful fun. 

" Her voice was more wonderful than when I heard it before 
— different from all others, in being like the warbling of a 
bird. She spoke with delight of the birds in England — how 
much better they sang than anywhere else ; and of her 
wonder that so small a thing (measuring it with her hand) 
should have such a power ; as if she, better than anyone else, 
knew how to appreciate the value of what they did. 

M 2 

164 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. xiii. 

" She came home before us ; and, when I asked her, if she 
was always received with such enthusiasm, she answered — 
' Ah, madamc, je suis gatee! And it afterwards came out, 
that, at Edinburgh, the reception was still more. This 
morning, she went out in the little carriage, with Catherine 
and Arthur ; and talked to them all the way of her life 
in Sweden. She told Catherine, that, every morning, when 
she got up, she felt that her voice was a gift from God, 
and that, perhaps, that very day might be the last of it. 

" To-day, all our company are gone, but Lea, Catherine, 
and the Bishop of Tasmania. She has not sung here ; 
but she sits down to the pianoforte, and warbles Scotch 
airs upon it, witli such exquisite feeling and taste. There 
is an expression of deep thought and melancholy in her 
countenance ; and yet she says how happy she is, and 
what a ' carriere ' God has enabled , her to go through. 
When I said something of the example she was holding out, 
of what could be done, and also of the effect it had, and the 
good both might do, she answered, ' Voila ce que fespere.' 
She looks about her with such wonder, and interest, and 
reverence. Her manner to the Bishop so reverential. Julius 
would be indeed in raptures, for the singing is the least part 
of the charm. It is the real simplicity of genius. 

" But I can write no more to-night. She stays till 
Saturday. She begged to-night to take three maids, and 
Sarah is gone. " Ever yours, 

" C. S." * 

When Mrs. Stanley wrote that " the bells were ringing," 
she gave but a very slight idea of the excited state into 
which the town of Norwich was thrown, by the arrival of its 
honoured guest. The leading local newspaper describes the 
event, with the fervour that never fails to animate a pro- 
vincial journal, put upon its mettle by the opportunity of 
making an unwonted announcement. She had been far 
from well, since her departure from Edinburgh ; and, as 
Mrs. Stanley tells us, in her letter, was suffering from in- 
ordinate fatigue. The public had been informed of this, and 

* This, and the following hitherto unpublished letters from Mrs. Stanley 
to her sister, have been kindly furnished by Mr. Augustus Hare. 

1847.] AT NOEWICH. 165 

great anxiety prevailed. ; " even," says the journal to which 
we have alluded, " among the working classes, who curiously 
peered into every carriage, and thronged around the portal 
by which the great songstress was to enter." 


" One o'clock, on Tuesday, and still, no Jenny Lind ! 

" But, at eight, suspense was relieved by the arrival of the 
lady at the station, where she was received hj Mr. Bolingbroke 
— one of the directors — and proceeded immediately to the 
Palace. The managers put an end to all doubt by S. Peter's 
bells, whose fine peal rang, and fired a, feu dejoic, in honour 
of the arrival. The Lord Bishop, and Mrs. Stanley, had a 
large party at the Palace ; but her fatigue was too great to 
allow her to join the circle. 

" The diihculty of describing the powers of such a being 
as Mdlle. Lind consists in the almost impossibility of de- 
fining, in words, the extraordinary inspirations with which 
she is gifted. The voice is a genuine soprano, of power, and 
flexibility, and has a compass extending from about G below 
to E i/i alt. Its technical qualities are, a perfectly pure 
formation, and an execution almost without fault, certainly 
without the slightest trickery, 

" In natural facility, Lind is scarcely equal, either to 
Mrs. Salmon, or Sontag, whose gift of song was pure and 
liquid, and, as has been said, ' trickled and sparkled, like 
diamond drops from the brightest fountain,' and to which 
' the audience listened, as to the singing of birds,' but in 
which none of the most powerful faculties of the intellect were 
brought into action. Mdlle. Lind, on the contrary, is all 
intellect, all feeling, all expression. She does nothing which 
bears not on it the impress of these. She is evidently 
impelled to combat the difficulties, and attain the beauties 
and refinements of her art, by an instinct beyond her own 
control; and she has qualities which neither labour nor 
instruction can impart. In short, she possesses the ' sacred 
fire.' She has genius, combined with that true worship of 
art which loves not fame for itself alone, but for the sake of 
the art she is ennobling. 

" Mdlle. Lind's reception was such as might have been 
expected, from an audience anxious to pay her the homage 
due to her fame. Unfortunately, the song. With verdure 
clad, a great favourite, was changed for On mighty pens. 

166 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. xiii. 

which, we believe, is preferred, in Germany. It was sung, 
too, in German. The diapj)ointment was general ; and, 
although the style was pure, and great, it was not only not 
appreciated, but produced, at the outset, an unfavourable 
impression. Nevertheless it was finely sung. 

" Casta diva calls forth the highest powers of a singer, 
both in execution, and expression ; and nothing could have 
been finer. In the slow movement, what could have been 
more expressive than her address to the chaste goddess — 
forgetting all else, her own position included, in the solemn 
appeal. And again, when the recollection of the return of 
her lover bursts upon her, what could have been more beau- 
tiful than the joy and the love which these recollections 
created. This Song has been one of the great points of com- 
parison between Lind, and her rival, Grisi. Each artist has 
conceived the character, according to her own powers — Grisi, 
with the feelings of a woman of strong passions, and a power- 
ful frame, has adopted the conception of those who have 
preceded her, as being more in consonance with her own 
character — Lind has read the part differently — and yet, 
looking at both, it would be difficult to decide on their 
judgment. Lind evidently sees the character in its earliest 
purity, and never loses the impression which her office has 
left upon her mind. Her conception is holier, purer, than 
the other ; and thus she depicts a being more in consonance 
with the simplicity of her own nature. 

" Mr. Balfe's air, Ah ! forse, has been written for the dis- 
play of her varied powers of execution. She appeared to 
trample upon the difficulties with which it was filled, and the 
passages were not only perfectly delivered, but were sung 
with an intuitive expression which was wonderful. 

" A repetition, with Mdlle. Lind, appears only a re-crea- 
tion, if not of a different set of ideas, at least, of more varied 
execution. For instance, in the ' Lesson with the Singing- 
master,' * she began, on its repetition, with a shake an extra 
octave higher, and with greater effect, greater power, and 
greater expression, than at first. 

" We cannot more appropriately close our notice of 
Mdlle, Lind, than in the words in which Georges Sand 
makes Marcello address Consuelo : — 

" ' It is reserved for you to let the world hear what it has 

* Con pazienza sopportiamo, the well-known Lezio'ne di canto, from 
Fioravanti's II Fanatico per la Musica. 

1847.] AT NORWICH. 167 

never yet heard ; and to make men feel what no man has 
ever yet felt.' " * 

We have found it necessary to cm-tail the foregoing cri- 
tique of three-fourths, at least, of its fair proportions ; but 
enough has been quoted, not only to show the feeling with 
which Mdlle. Lind was received, in the " provinces," but, to 
furnish the assurance that, despite their prolixity, her re- 
viewers in the country knew something of the duty that 
devolved upon them, and were even able to give a fairly just 
idea of her performances, and to appreciate, at their true value, 
the differences between her method and that of some other great 
singers who had fairly made their mark in times gone by. 

The scheme for the week included two performances, over 
and above that already described : viz., an evening Concert, 
on Thursday, September the 23rd; and, on Saturday, the 
25th, a supplementary morning performance, for the benefit 
of those who were unable to meet the high prices demanded 
for the original tickets. On the Thursday, the greatest effect 
seems to have been produced by Dove sono ; and, on the 
Saturday, says the local journal, the Swedish songs, " threw 
the audience into a 'periect furore " 

It is pleasant to turn from these provincial criticisms to a 
charming little episode associated with the morning perform- 
ance on Saturday. 

At a service in the Cathedral, on the Friday afternoon, 
Mdlle. Lind had heard three of the Choristers t sing the Trio 
Jesus, Heavenly Master, from Spohr's Crucifixion,^ with a 
purity of expression which moved her to tears. So great, 
indeed, was the effect produced upon her by the fresh young 

* From a local journal of the period. 

t After this honourable mention, it is only fair to say that their names 
were, E. Bonnett, G. Cartwright, and A. Mann. 

X It will be remembered that this Oratorio was composed for the 
Norwich Festival of 1839. 

168 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. xiir. 

voices, that she afterwards told the Precentor that she " could 
never forget the boys' singing," and delighted Mr, Buck, the 
organist, by saying that she had " never heard children sing 
so well ; " and, in return for the pleasure they had given her, 
she begged that places might be reserved for all the little 
Choristers, at the morning performance on the following day. 
On arriving at the Hall, her first care was, to ascertain that 
the places accorded to them were satisfactory, no slight pri- 
vilege, at a time when numbers of the general public were 
thankful to pay for places from which seeing was impossible, 
and hearing extremely problematical. But this was not the 
only privilege the little Choristers enjoyed. They were more 
delighted still with another, which excited the envy of every 
one present: for when she came upon the platform, she 
greeted them with a smile of recognition, " which," says 
the Norwich newspaper, "will not be readily forgotten, 
either by the boys, or those who saw the passing brightness." 
In another letter to Mrs. Augustus Hare, Mrs, Stanley thus 
describes the departure of her honoured guest : — 

" Palace, September 28, 1847. 

" My deaeest M., 

" I have been waiting for a quiet moment to send 
you a detailed account of the last days of Jenny Lind. I 
quite long to tell all to Julius and Esther ; they will be so 
delighted. What I have told you at present is nothing to 
the interest of what I have to tell — but I am writing it all 
out at leisure, and then you shall have it. Arthur is to dine 
and sleep in New Street to-morrow and will tell it all then. 
I never saw him so interested. Indeed the effect upon every- 
body, from highest to lowest, seems magical ; and she, in the 
midst of it all, shrinking, retiring, except when it was a 
question of doing or showing a kindness, and saying to 
Catherine how fearful she feels her position : ' Moi qui veut 
toujours etre la derniere! 

" I do not think there is anyone, amongst the thousands 
who heard and saw her, who thinks otherwise than that it was 
an honour to the Bishop to have given her the protection of 

1847.] AT NORWICH. 169 

his house. She went on Saturday, and is to leave England for 

Berlin, to sing to the King and Queen of Prussia (of whom 

she speaks as they deserve), and by whom she is cordially 

appreciated, on Friday next ; but she will return to England 

next May. 


" Ever yours, most affectionately, 

"C. S." 

" You may think how relieved I am at the result of last 
week. No ! I was really sorry when it came to an end — it 
was so interesting. I would rather hear Jenny talk than sing 
— wonderful as it is." 

170 JENNY LIND. [bk. vir. ch. xiv. 


AT NORWICH {suite). 

We have said enough to show tliat Mdlle. Lind's reception 
at *Norwich was no ordinary one ; and the letters we have 
quoted would alone be sufficient to prove the fact, if proof 
were necessary. 

But, the most graphic account, by far, of this famous visit, 
is furnished by a very illustrious pen indeed — that of Mr. 
Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, afterwards dear to so many as the 
Dean of Westminster. 

In a letter, dated September 22, 1847, Dean (then Mr.) 
Stanley writes : — 

"Dear , 

" You have perhaps seen in the papers that Jenny 
Lind has been ill ; and that, hence, her arrival here was 
delayed a day, and the interest consequently enhanced. 

" I should also, perhaps, add, that doubts had been enter- 
tained whether she could be sufficiently recovered to sing 
at all. 

"Well! the fatal Tuesday arrives, the 4.30 train arrives, 
bringing guests of ours — but, no Jenny. 

"All along the hue, people had been standing at the 
stations, poking their heads in at the windows. 

" ' No — she's not here.' And so on, till the disappointment 
communicated itself to the crowd of 100, 400, or 700, which 
reports, varying in their degrees, represent as assembled at 
the Norwich terminus. And similar agitations prevail, even 
within the Episcopal precincts, from the humble inhabitants 
of the Lodge — who look, with inquisitive glances, into any 
fly that drives through the ancient gates — up to the circle in 

1847.] AT NORWICH. 171 

the Palace drawing-room, which runs to the window, at every 
sound, and starts at every opening of the door. 

" Dinner arrives — and still no Lind ! 

" In the midst of dinner — a ring at the door. The dining- 
room door opens — and, enter an electric telegraph, which is 
delivered to the Prelate at the head of the table, and read to 
the listening guests — who numbered, by the way, another 
Bishop, he of Tasmania — in the following words : — 

" ' Miss Lind, being detained, will not be at Norwich, till 

" The blank faces which appeared at the beginning of the 
sentence revived at the close ; and the only suspense now 
remained till the actual hour had arrived. 

" At that moment, the great bells of S. Peter's Mancroft 
broke out into their most joyous chimes. Some even say 
that guns were fired from the surrounding heights. A few 
minutes more, and the expectant company became aware 
that the head of the musical world had entered the house. 

" Thus far I had written, on the morning after she came ; 
and, as far as the excitement is concerned, it might have been 
continued in the same strain ; how, when it was found that 
she could not appear that night, from excessive fatigue ; and, 
that she had said, ' J'es2)ere que je jwtirrai chanter demain ; 
mats fen doute,' blank horror overpowered the party ; how the 
choristers were so afiected, that one of them burst into tears ; 
how the bells rang till twelve at night, and ever and anon, all 
day ; how her portraits were selling in the streets, at a penny 
a piece ; how the whole town w^as in one great Lind-Mael- 
strom of excitement ; how Miss Buckland was taken for her, 
when visiting a factory, and followed by crowds, Sedgewick 
encouraging the delusion by calling her ' Jenny ' ; how, on 
one occasion, when she went into the town with the Bishop, 
to visit two schools, the moment that her presence became 
known, the streets were thronged, and windows thrown up, in 
every direction, with people gazing from them, and turning 
after her, till their necks were almost w^renched from their 
sockets ; how, when she went to the Cathedral, the whole of 
the North Transept, through which lies the approach to the 
Palace, was so densely thronged, that, as I led her — yes, I 

myself, S ! through the mass she had forced asunder, 

as when Prince Albert led the Queen up the Senate House ; 

172 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. xiv. 

all this, and much more, I might relate ; but I cannot ; for, 
great as was the wonder of seeing a whole population thus 
bewitched by one simple Swedish girl, it sinks into nothing, 
before the wonder of herself. 

" You have seen her, and therefore you can appreciate the 
grace, the dignity, the joyousness, the touching pathos of her 
entrance ; her attitude, her curtsies, her voice. For, whatever 
much beside — as, I doubt not, there is — may be seen in her 
acting, all tliis is seen in her singing. 

" Twice did I go to the concert, merely for the sake of this. 
For the music, so far as it could be separated from the charm 
of her manner, and the wonder of her voice, which I, alas ! 
could only admire as a natural phenomenon, was to me 
wholly lost. 

" But, now, you must conceive a character, corresponding 
to all this, and transpiring through a thousand traits of 
humility, gentleness, thoughtfulness, wisdom, piety. The 
manners of a Princess — as I have written to Donkin — with 
the simplicity of a child, and the goodness of an angel. She 
is very much plainer, and more homely, than you would 
suppose from her countenance, as you see it when animated 
in public ; but her smile, at all times, is only equalled by 

" She came on Tuesday night, and is gone this evening ; 
and it seems quite a blank, as if a heavenly visitant had 

" The parting scene was so deeply affecting, that I prefer, 
for the moment, to dwell upon her return from the third and 
final concert, in which the two carriages drove off together 
from the door, one containing the Episcopal party, with the 
exception of myself, who rode on the outside of the second, in 
wliich sat the wonderful creature herself — the crowd rushing 
after with enthusiastic cheers. 

" I have already written a whole letter, and yet told you 
nothing, and do not know whether I shall have time to do so 
till we meet. But, there are numberless things to tell you, 
which may perhaps regale the Common Eoom in the long 
winter evenings of next term. 

" Ever yours, 

" A. P. Stanley." 

" P.S. — On reading over what I have said, I must begin 
again, lest you should regard all this as idle raving. And 

1847.] AT NORWICH, 173 

yet, I hardly know where to begin — not to mention that no 
details can give an adequate impression of the whole. 

" (1). I never saw any one so strongly impressed with the 
consciousness that a natural faculty is a gift. ' Cc n'cst pas 
un merite ; c'est un don ' was, in various ways, constantly 
expressing itself. She said she never sang without reflecting 
that it might be for the last time ; and, that it was continued 
to her, from year to year, for the good of others. 

" (2). In speaking of her profession, generally, it was 
obvious that it was not only her greatest object — as, indeed, 
one could not doubt, for a moment — to keep herself un- 
spotted ; but, to elevate its whole tone, and character. ' C'cst 
ce que j'espere' she said, with enthusiasm, in answer to some 
suggestion that such might be the result of her career. 

" (3). On acting, she said that, on the one hand, she could 
not leave her own character altogether behind, when she came 
on the stage ; that, to destroy her individuality would destroy 
all that was good in her ; and, that she made it a principle, 
never to represent such passions as would awaken bad feel- 
ings. Hence, for example, her very different conception of 
Norma from that of Grisi. But, on the other hand, whatever 
conception she did form of the character she acted, she threw 
herself into it entirely. If, as once or t^vice had happened, 
she was unable to do this, she felt she was acting, and telling 
lies, and then entirely failed. One instance she gave of this 
complete identification was, that the part of La Sonnamhtola 
fatigued her extremely, from the utter impossibility of moving 
her eyes, during the sleep-walking. 

" (4). The Bishop of Tasmania,* as I told you, being here 
at the time, was so deeply impressed by her excellence, that, 
when he went away, not being able to talk to her in French, 
he left her a letter expressive of his approbation of her course, 
and of his hopes of the good she might effect. This, combined 
with the great interest that she herself took in his objects, so 
deeply affected her, that all her practice for the coming 
concert had to be thrown aside ; and it was with great difS- 
culty that she could sing, when she first began. All this you 
can imagine as much more moving than I can describe. 

" (5). Her attention to all the servants and inferiors was 
most remarkable — of which let this suf&ce. 

" At the last concert, when she appeared for the second 
time on the platform, and just before the beginning of her 

* Bishop Nixon. 

174 JENNY LIND. [bk. vii. ch. xrv. 

song, the fixed look of vacancy, seeing nothing, and looking at 
nobody, was suddenly exchanged for one of those enchanting 
smiles which she cast below. It was the little boys of the 
Cathedral Choir, whom she had seen at our house, and whose 
upturned faces she caught sight of, at that moment, and she 
looked upon them, with this delightful smile, till the song 

" Last of all, you shall have her impression of me ! 

" On the last day, I told her that there was ' quelque cJiose 
d' extraordinaire dans la voix ; ' but that, otherwise, her singing, 
in itself, produced no impression whatever upon me. This, 
she said, was by far the most amusing thing she had heard ; 
and, that she should never forget it. 

" And now I must end. 

" Ever yours, 

" A. P. Stanley." * 

We shall entirely fail to do justice to this panegyric — for 
it is impossible to designate it by any milder name — if 
we forget, when reading it, that it is not the work of a 
musical critic, or a lover of Art, or even of one accustomed to 
listen to music with pleasure. It was written by a man 
gifted with deep insight into character ; endowed with 
keenest perception of, and broadest sympathy with, all that 
was noblest and grandest in those with whom he was 
brought into contact in his passage through the world ; a 
man of rare intellectual gifts ; of rich and varied learning ; 
but, with no "ear for music." It is not invidious to say 
this ; for he himself tells us that the wonderful singing 
which was delighting everyone else in Norwich, " produced 
no impression upon him." 

Yet, neither Mendelssohn, nor Eellstab, nor Andersen, 
nor any one of those whose opinion we have hitherto 
quoted, wrote in such glowing language as this of the 
artist whose personality was able, of itself alone, without 

* Transcribed from the original letter, by the kind permission of the 
late Dean's literary executor. 

1847.] AT NORWICH. 175 

the aid of music, to inspire its avithor with a reverence so 
deep, and an admiration so enthusiastic, that, by his own 
confession, he is unable to find words sufficiently powerful 
for its adequate expression. Do not let us forget that it 
is no professional critic who is writing, here, but an inde- 
pendent %vitness, whose words are accepted with love and 
reverence, even by those who do not always agree with 
him, wherever the English language is spoken. And it is 
not too much to say, that, in this particular case, his opinion 
was shared by everyone who had enjoyed the privilege of 
hearing or conversing with the lady by whose personality 
he was so deeply impressed. 

The day on which she took leave of them was a veritable 
day of mourning. Indeed, the inhabitants of Norwich seem 
to have looked upon her departure from them as if it had 
been her actual farewell to England. But, this was not the 
case. She had yet to sing twice at Bristol, once at Bath, 
and twice at Exeter, the final concert taking place on the 
2nd of October. The events of the last few weeks in England 
carried down to the actual moment of departure, are thus 
described by Mrs. Grote : — 

" At the end of September, I joined Jenny at Bath, along 
with ]\Ir. Lumley. My brother was obliged to leave us on the 
first of October, and I was induced, by her persuasions, to 
remain by her side for a few days, first, at Clifton, where she 
sang, and afterwards at Exeter. Mr. Grote joined us, at the 
last-named place, and escorted the party back to London. 

"On Monday, the fourth of October, Jenny spent the 
evening in private, "with Queen Adelaide, calling on me, in 
Eccleston Street, about half-past 10 p.m. to arrange about the 
morrow, which was the day fixed for the departure from 

" Accordingly, she dined with us, as did also Mr. Lumley ; 
and, at 9 o'clock, p.m., Mr. Grote and I, together with Mr. 
Lumley, who followed in his own carriage, escorted her to the 
Custom-House Stairs, whence, taking a small wherry, we 



[bK. VII. CH. XIV. 

conducted her on board the Hamburg Packet, the * John 

" It was a very fine autumn evening, though dark ; and, as 
we silently paddled along, among the shipping, and the dim 
lanthorn lights, I was led to reflect upon the contrast between 
this obscure termination of Jenny's visit to England, and the 
prodigious excitement she had produced upon the English 

" On board the steamer, we took a most afiectionate leave of 
her, the sadness of which was relieved by the hope of meeting 
again within a few months ; Mr. Lumley having induced her 
to contract a second engagement at Her Majesty's Theatre. 

" As we rowed away from the ship, we saw her white hand- 
kerchief waving in the darkness, wafting to us her last 
adieux ! 

" She left behind her, in England, a splendid reputation, 
and the most extensive personal interest and sympathy 
which it was possible for a woman to create ; and she also 
carried with her, as the fruit of five months' work, a con- 
siderable sum of money — such a sum as, till now, she had 
not been mistress of." * 

And, here, we too must take leave of her for a while, 
to meet her again, at the end of her journey, surrounded 
by the beloved friends she had left behind her in Berlin.f 

* From Mrs. Grote's MS. ' Memoir.' 

f The foUowiug were the dates of Mdlle. Lind's performances, during 
the course of her first season in England. 


June 3(Th.). 

La Figlia del Reg- 

At Her Majesty's Theatre. 

„ 5 (Sat.). 

La Figlia del Reg- 

May 4(Tu.). 

Roberto il Diavolo. 


„ 6(Th.). 

Roberto il Diavolo. 

„ 8(Tu.). 

La Soniiambula. 

„ 8 (Sat.). 

Roberto il Diavolo. 

„ 10 (Th.). 

Roberto il Diavolo. 

„ 13 (Th.). 

La Sonnamb'ula. 

„ 15 (Tu.). 

Norma (State per- 

„ 15 (Sat.). 

La Sonnambula. 


„ 18 (Tu.). 

La Sonnambula. 

„ 17 (Th.). 


„ 20 (Th.). 

Roberto il Diavolo. 

„ 19 (Sat.). 


„ 25 (Tu.). 

La Sonnambula. 

„ 22 (Tu.). 


„ 27 (Th.) 

La Figlia del Reg- 

„ 24 (Th.). 

La Sonnamhida. 


July l(Th.). 

La Figlia del Reg- 

June 1 (Tu.). 

La Figlia del Reg- 



„ 3 (Sat.). 

■La Sonnambula. 




July 8(Th.). 

Roberto il DiavoJo. 

In the 


„ 10 (^^at.). 

La Fir/lia del Reg- 



Concert at Brigh ton . 



26 (Th.). 

Concert at Birming- 

„ 13 (Tu.). 

La Sonnambula. 


„ 15 (Th.). 

La Figlia del Reg- 


28 (Sat.). 

La Sonnambula, at 

„ 20 (To.). 

Roberto il Diavolo. 


30 (Mon.) 

La Sonnambula, at 

„ 22 (Th.). 

I Masnadieri. 


„ 21 (Sat.). 

I Masnadieri. 

Sept. 2 (Th.). 

La Figlia del Reg- 

„ 29 (Th.). 

I Masnadieri. 

gimento, at Man- 

Aug. 3 (Tu.). 

La Sonnambula. 


■ „ 5 (Th.). 

La Figlia del Reg- 


4 (Sat.). 

La Figlia del Reg- 
gimento, at Man- 

„ 7 (Sat.). 

Roberto il Diavolo. 


„ 10 (Tu.). 

I Masnadieri. 


6 (Mon.) 

La Sonnambula, at 

„ 12 (Th.). 

La Sonnambula. 


„ 14 (Sat.). 

La Figlia del Reg- 


8 (Wed.) 

La Figlia del Reg- 
gimenfo,at Liver- 

„ 17 (Tn.). 

Le Nozze di Figaro. 


„ 19 (Th.). 

Le Nozze di Figaro. 


9 (Th.). 

Concert at Birming- 

„ 20(Fn.). 

Concert for the 


Chorus of the 


10 (Fri.). 

Concert at Hull. 



16 (Th.). 

Concert at Edin- 

„ 21 (Sat.). 

La Sonnambula. 



17 (Fri.). 

Concert at Glasgow. 

Concerts, "By Command of the 


18 (Sat.). 

Concert at Perth. 



20 (Mon.). 

Concert at Edin- 


May 28 (Fri.). 

At Buckingham 


22 (Wed.). 

Concert at Norwich. 



23 (Th.). 

Concert at Norwich . 

June 9 (Wed.). 

At Marlborough 


25 (Sat.). 

Concert at Norwich . 

House, for the 


27 (Mod.). 

Concert at Bristol. 

Queen Dowager. 


28 (Tu.). 

Concert at Bath. 

„ 30 (Wed.). 

At Buckingham 


30 (Th.). 

Concert at Bristol. 



1 (Fri.). 

Concert at Exeter. 

Aug. 9 (Men.). 

At Osborne. 


2 (Sat.). 

Concert at Exeter. 







( 181 ) 



How strangely our forebodings are sometimes justified by after 
events quite beyond conception at the time they were uttered. 
Wbile Mdlle. Lind was most painfully under the influence 
of the terror with which she had once looked forward to her 
visit to London, she had written to Madame Wichmann : — 

" Vienna, March 26, 1847. 

" I must really go to London. Will you send me a few 
words to Munich, by the next mail ? I shall soon be there, 
staying with the Kaulbachs. 

" How beautifully everything has gone with me, here in 
Vienna ! And, how nice it would be for me, if I had not to 
go to London. But, perhaps, even that may have its good 
side ! " * 

It had indeed had its good side ; and the prophecy that had 
been uttered in the bitterness of anxiety, had been most 
gloriously fulfilled — as she herself confessed, when she 

wrote : — 

" London, August 12, 1847. 
" How delighted I am that I have finished here ! For it is 
better to look back upon the accomplishment of so great a 
thing, than to look forward to it. The English public has 
been unexampled in its kindness to me." f 

Truly, it had been very kind to her ; and she had richly 
deserved it. The arrangement had been perfectly fair, on 

* From the Wichmann collection. 
t lUd. 

182 JENNY LIND. [bk. vra. ch. i. 

both sides. She had proved herself worthy of the recognition 
accorded to her by the public ; and the public had proved 
itself worthy of her. 

We left her on board the John Bull', waving an affec- 
tionate good-bye to her English friends, Mr. and Mrs. 
Grote, and Mr. Lumley ; and looking forward to an equally 
affectionate greeting from the dear ones from whom she had 
parted, in the previous autumn, at Berlin, whither she was 
now wending her way, in fulfilment of a brief engagement at 
the Eoyal Opera-House, before her return to Stockholm. 

As early as the 25th of July, she had written, to Madame 
Wichmann : — 

'• A few days ago, I received a very nice letter from 
Kiistner. You know how friendly he always was to me. I 
am quite sure that he is an honest and good man ; and I 
shall write — which is a great deal from me ! — to tell liim 
that I cannot stay long in Berlin, or sing more than twice or 
three times at the utmost, as I leave England so late — not 
until nearly the end of September. We cannot, therefore, be 
long together, dearly beloved, as I must get to Sweden before 
the weather becomes too unfavourable. 

" Do you know, the Professor's likeness of me* has pleased 
the Queen immensely — and now I come to you to ask a very 
great favour. Lablache is also so enchanted with the 
portrait, that I have been obliged to promise him that I will 
ask the Professor to let him have a copy of it. I shall be 
eternally obliged if my Professor will let me have a little 
head — you know well what I mean : my head — for Lablache. 
He will be here till the middle of August. Ah ! I entreat 
you, do me this great kindness. He has begged so hard for it. 

" Eor ever thine, 

" Jenny." 

" P.S. We are quite well. I am altogether beside myself 
vith enchantment for England."t 


* The marble medallion, by Professor Wichmann, described in vol. I., 
p. 362, and impressed upon the binding of these volumes. • 
t From the Wichmann collection. 

1847.] Ni:W TRIUMPHS AT BERLIN. 183 

And again, on the 30th of September : — 

" I leave my beloved England, next Thiusday, the 5 th. I 
cannot, however, tell the exact day of my arrival in Berlin. 
I will write again from Hamburg," * 

How different was the greeting now awaiting her in the 
Prussian capital, from that with which she had been received 
on lier first appearance there, in the winter of 1844 ! 

Then, all had been uncertainty. A^ague expectation, on the 
part of the public ; despondency, of the most painful kind, 
on that of the debutante. Fame, it is true, had preceded her. 
Eeport had had much to say. The critics had heard some 
marvellous stories. The artist knew something of what she 
could accomplish. But, who could say how much of the 
marvel was to be believed ; or how far the artist's ideal 
would satisfy the new audiences to whom it was to be 
presented ? The dull dead pall of doubt hung over all ; and 
it was not until the curtain had fallen upon the first 
performance of Norma, that the mist dispersed, to reveal the 
prospect in store for the glorious future. 

And now, what a change had taken place! There was 
no more doubt. The triumph was assured. The expected 
visitor was no longer a shrinking Scandinavian maiden, 
preparing to make her first appearance before a dreaded 
tribunal, quick to note every weak point in her perform- 
ance ; but, a finished artist, who had conquered every diffi- 
culty; surmounted every obstacle that barred her path to 
fame ; won deathless laurels, not in her own country only, 
but in every city, every great art-centre, through which she 
had passed, from Munich and Vienna in the south, to northern 
Edinburgh, with the triumphs of the London season to form 
the climax of the whole. So much had she done, since that 
eventful winter of 1844, that it might well have been 

* From the Wichmann collection. 

184 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. i. 

questioned whether more laurels were left for her to gather. 
But more there were, and these, too, she culled without 
an effort. And fitting ornaments they formed, to the crown 
she had so justly won, and wore so humbly — a crown, to 
which new glories were added in every Opera-House in which 
she sang ; for, not even yet had she reached the culminating 
point in her marvellous artistic career. 

Her reception in Berlin, on this, her third visit, seemed to 
include within itself all the enthusiasm that had been 
gradually gaining new strength through the experiences of 
the two preceding years. The critics — who had never been 
wanting in warmth of diction — exhausted their vocabulary 
in the endeavour to find new words sufficiently powerful for 
the expression of panegyrics for which they found all 
ordinary language inadequate. We do not propose to 
translate, in extcnso, the reviews appertaining to this period ; 
in the first place, because the Operas to which they refer have 
been fully described? in former chapters, in connection with 
Mdlle. Lind's first appearance in them, either at Berlin, or 
in London ; and, secondly, because they do but reiterate, in 
stronger language — frequently so transcendental as to defy- 
all attempts at English paraphrase — opinions which have 
already been expressed, over and over again, and which 
would certainly gain nothing from recapitulation in terms 
that an English critic of the present day might possibly be 
tempted to regard as extravagant. Avoiding, then, all 
needless repetition, we will content ourselves with laying 
before our readers Herr Eellstab's account of the final fare- 
well to the Berlin stage, which took place, on the occasion of 
Mdlle. Lind's benefit, on the 17th of October, 1847, after she 
had sung twice, in La Figlia del Beggimcnto, and once, in 
Dcr Frcischutz* with such success, that the great German 

* During her tliird visit to Berlin, Mdlle. Lind sang. four times only 
on the stage, once at a Court Concert, and once at a concert for the 


critic's admiration for the lively little vivandiere exceeded 
even that expressed by his English confreres, while, in the 
last representation of Weber's masterpiece, he recognised an 
ideal still higher than that which had delighted him in 
1845, and found it impossible to escape the conviction, 
that, however exalted Mdlle. Lind's conception of the 
character of " Agathe " might then have been, she had 
raised it, by the subsequent development of her genius, to a 
level more worthy still of the composer's intention and her 
own consummate art. ■ 

Herr Eellstab's account of the performance of La 
Sonnamhula, on the night of the final benefit, is as- 
follows : — 

" La Sonnamhula ! Jenny Lind's benefit ! Such a 
performance — how could it have been otherwise ? — must of 
necessity, through the prevailing feeling in favour of the 
artist, awaken a sympathy, and attract a concourse, the like 
of which has not often been recorded in the history of our 
theatre. She re^ived, in this character, a lovely picture of 
the past, which floated before the recollection of many, in 
still living colours, and the reality of which presented itself 
to us with fresh and irresistible charm. It is admitted that, 
for the singer, this part is the most brilliant in which she 
has ever unfolded before us the depths of her rich and over- 
whelming talent ; while, for the actress, it enables her to 
turn to the best possible account the twofold advantage 
derivable from her rare command of the most charming 
playfulness, and the deepest passion.* 

" In so far as the singer is concerned, however faithfully 
we may have retained the recollection of that which she 
presented to us on former occasions ; however imperishable 

Chorus of the Opera. The dates were October 12 and 14, La Figlia del 
Reggimento ; Oct. 15, Der Freiscliutz ; Oct. 16, Court Concert ; Oct. 17, 
La Sonnamhula (benefit) ; Oct. 18, concert for the Chorus of the Opera. 

* Here follows an elaborate criticism of the performance, abounding in 
details wliich, having ah-eady recorded Herr Eellstab's opinion of Mdlle. 
Lind's interpretation of the part of " Amina " in our first volume, we will 
not weary our readers by recapitulating. 

186 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. i. 

the conception may have remained to us ; the present reality 
far outstrips the remembrance. 

" The undisguised sentiment of the evening was that of a 
triumph which nothing sliort of an artistic appearance of the 
highest possible excellence could have justified. The joyful 
excitement of the public manifested itself in involuntarily 
repeated signs, which accompanied every detail, in the various 
sections of "the piece. It broke out afresh at the end of every 
act in reiterated calls before the curtain which the singer 
acknowledged, at last, by repeating the final rondo, in 
return for the rich wreaths of flowers which fell at her feet. 

" We should have recorded a deep joy, filled with such 
splendours, such magnificence, as can only accompany a 
high festival of highest Art, had it not been that our feeling 
was, in truth, less that of tumultuous joy than of real 
sorrow. It was, after all, that which we had been told it 
would be — the last evening on which this unique, this un- 
approachable artist, would appear before us on her field of 
Adctory, the stage — the last evening, at least, in so far as a 
German audience was concerned. A winter of rest in her 
own country ; a farewell visit to magnificent Albion, the rich 
offerings of whose splendour had been laid at her feet ; and 
then — the course of the purest star that has ever guided us 
by its light to the Heaven of Art will reach its close. Only 
in narrower circles will its soft rays be henceforth mani- 
fested. If anything can give us consolation, in this too early 
and irreparable loss now mourned by Art, it must be sought 
for in the divine thought uttered by Goethe, on the occasion 
of Schiller's death : — 

" ' It is good for us, that he was taken in the fulness, in 
the splendour of life ; for mortals rest in our memory, as 
they were when they left the earth. Therefore it is, that 
Achilles remains with us, an ever-dying youth.' 

" That which consoled the great poet for the departure of 
his illustrious friend is reflected, for us, in relation to our 
Artist — if, indeed, she have really courage enough, on 
the summit of conquest, to put an end to the career that she 
has followed with such glorious results, in the fulness of its 
grace and grandeur. Let her mould her fate as she may, her 
remembrance will remain imperishable, with those in whose 
presence she displayed the empire of her artistic conceptions 
— with all who have experienced their elevating and en- 
nobling effect. 


" And gratefully will every wish for that which is good 
and best,lE'ollow the departing guest; whether the steps of 
her future life lead to still greater heights of publicity ; or, 
to the still valleys of a retired existence, which often afford 
a purer, if a less exciting form of happiness. 

" L. Eellstab." * 

And so, on that memorable night, the great "Berlin 
period " passed out of the artist's life, like a marvellous, an 
almost incomprehensible dream. Passed out of her life, and 
out of the lives of her audience, of her admirers, of her 
fellow-worshippers at the shrine of Art, never to be renewed, 
and yet, more certainly still, never to be forgotten. 

It was at Berlin that she had achieved her first great 
successes — successes, comparable only, in their significance, 
to the later triumphs in London, and at Vieima. There it 
was, that intelligent critics had first learned to appreciate her 
genius at its true value; first discussed her merits, with 
impartial fau-ness and keenest discernment; and first 
obtained an insight, however slight, into the inner life of the 
Art-creations she evolved. In Berlin she first met Mendels- 
sohn, and the Wichmanns, and Tieck, and a host of kindred 
spirits, with whom her memory lingered long and sweetly — 
cherished lovingly by aU — forgotten by none. And, in 
Berlin, she had first ascertained the measure of her own 
powers ; weighed them fairly in the balance, and stood face 
to face with their reality; though her nervousness and 
diffidence led her, many a time, to undervalue them, in the 
years to come. 

Though we never find her writing of Berlin with the 
warmth she manifests when alluding to her residence in 
London, or Vienna, it cost her a cruel pang to bid farewell to 
the boards she had so often trodden, with so many strange 

* Kgl. Berl. ( Voss.) Zeitimg (Oct. 19, 184:7). See also, Gesammelte 
Schriften von L. Eelhtah., Tom xs., p. 407 et seq. 

188 JENNT LIND. [bk. viir. ch. i. 

alternations of anxiety, and diffidence, 'and honest artistic 
satisfaction. This feeling was touchingly manifested, at the 
close of a concert which was given at the Eoyal Opera 
House, on the 18th of October, for the benefit of the members 
of the Chorus, and for which Taubert composed the song, 
Icli muss nun einmal singen. At the end of a long and 
elaborate critique of this concert, Eellstab writes thus : — 

" A profound emotion was to be read in the demeanour of 
the beloved artist, who had won the hearts, as well as the 
highest admiration of all." 

And the tone of the response, felt, rather than uttered, by 
the public, in recognition of this " profound emotion," is 
recorded in a few not less well-chosen words : — 

" If that which life bestows upon her equals that with 
which she has adorned it in such rich abundance, then will 
her days be over-arched by Heaven with purer happiness 
than it is given to many to enjoy. For all that Art has 
become to us, through her, in beauty, in elevation, in inspira- 
tion, be our thanks expressed in this wish for her future Kfe. 
We know well that thousands will share it. 

" L. Eellstab."* 

And now, the pain of the parting was over. The last 
note had been sung, and the last word said. But, the word 
that dwelt longest in the memory of her to whom it was 
addressed had not been spoken at the Eoyal Opera-House, 
but, at the Palace of Sans Souci — not by the people, but by 
the King of Prussia. 

The feeling with which she herself regarded the King and 
Queen of Prussia had been touchingly expressed, in a letter 
written to Madame Wichmann from Vienna, on the 26th of 
March, 1847 :— 

" Thanks, a thousand thanks for your last letter. It made 
me so happy to hear that Their ]\Iajesties the King and 

* From the Kgh priu. Bed. (Voss.) Zeitung (Oct. 20, 1847). 


Queen wished to hear me once more, that I was moved to 
tears. You must know, dear Amalia, that my heart is so 
bound to these Eoyal persons, so filled with thanks for the 
sympathy that I found at the Prussian Court, when I stood 
there a stranger quite unknown, that, for the Queen es- 
pecially, I could pass through the fire, if she desired me. To 
me, therefore, every wish of the King or Queen is sacred, and 
I beg you to tell Graf von Eedern that I will gratefully fulfil 
this as soon as possible. Ah! to see you and them again, 
Amalia! and to talk with you in peace! Ah! my heart 
bounds at the thought ! " 

And now, following the example of the Emperor of Austria, 
King Frederick William IV, of Prussia, after a Court Concert 
given on the 16th of October, appointed Mdlle. Lind his 
Kammersdngcrin — his Chamber- Vocalist ; and wrote, to 
inform her of the fact, in terms strangely simple, compared 
with those in which the Imperial decree had been pro- 
mulgated, at Vienna, some six months previously : — 

" I cannot deny myself the satisfaction of adding my own 
acknowledgment to the universal recognition which your rare 
talent and perfect mastery over the Art of Song have com- 
manded, and I wish to prove this to you by herewith ap- 
pointing you my Chamber- Vocalist. 

" Sans Souci, October 16, 1847. 

(Signed) " Pkiedpjch Wilhelm, E. 

" An Demoiselle Jenny Lind." * 

On the same day, His Majesty made known his command 
to Graf von Eedern in the following brief but expressive 
words : — 

"T have appointed the singer, Jenny Lind, to be my 

* " Ich kann es mir niclit versagen, der allgemeinen Anerkeununp- welclie 
Ihrem seltenen Talent und Ihrer vollendeten Meisterscliaft in der Kunst 
des Gesanges gezollt wird, die meinige hinzu-zufiigen, und wiinsclie Ihneu 
dieselbe dadurcli zu bethiitigen, dass icli Sie bierdurch zu meiner Kam- 
mersangerin ernenne. » Sans-Souci, den 16 Olitober, 1847, 

(Signed) " Ffjedrich Wilhklm E. 

" An Demoiselle Jenny Lind." 

190 JENNY LIND. [bk. vm. ch. i. 

Chamber- Singer ; and have thought it right that you should 
be hereby made acquainted with the fact. 

(Signed) "Fpjedrich Wilhelm.* 

" Sans Souci, October 16, 1847." 

The explanation of this memorandum is that, in the 
natural order of things, the notification of the King's desire 
should have been formally conveyed to Mdlle. Lind through 
the agency of Count Eedern ; but, in this case, as we have 
already seen, His Majesty, departing from customary eti- 
quette, had enriched the compliment with an additional 
grace, by addressing the letter containing the necessary 
announcement to Mdlle. Lind herself. 

And, bearing with her this honourable patent, so frankly 
given, and so nobly won, Mdlle. Lind left Berlin, on the 19th 
of October ; sang once in Die Regimentstochtcr, at the Stadt- 
Theatre, at Hamburg, on the 20 th ; and, immediately after- 
wards, proceeded to Stockholm, in fulfilment of philanthropic 
intentions which will be described in detail in our next 
chapter, f 

* "Ich babe die Sangerin Jenny Lind zu nieiner Kammersangerin 
ernannt, und habe Sie davon hierdurcb in Kenntniss setzen woUen. 

" Sans Souci, den 16 Oktober, 1847. 

" Feiedeich Wilhelm." 

t The dates of the last performances at Berlin were : — 

WiNTEE Season of 1847. j Concerts in 1847. 

Oct. 12. Die Begimentstochter. \ Oct. 16. Court concert. 

„ 14. Die EegimentstocUer. . „ 18. Concert for the mem- 

„ 15. Der Freischutz. \ bers of the Chorus. 

„ 17. Die Nachtiuandhrin. I . ' 

( 191 ) 



" I FEEL SO strangely content," she wrote on December 15, 
to Madame Wiclimann ; " I am so happy and so quiet, at 
home again. It suits me so well; and the people are my 
own country-folk ; and they love me for that." 
Her friends gathered quickly about her. 

" The only thing that gladdened me," writes Fraulein Von 
Stedingk in her Diary, " was that Jenny Lind came back 
to Sweden. She was to spend the winter here ; not for taking- 
rest, though she greatly needed it, but to enchant us by her 
unsurpassed talent, and to devote her receipts to the founding 
of Art Scholarships and to the Eoyal Theatre. 

" I called on her occasionally this winter, in her flat in 
the ' Haymarket,' but I saw less of her this time than before, 
owing to her time being incessantly taken up by visitors 
and business. 

" She spoke of England with delight ; and she seemed to 
prefer it to all other countries. I could have wished that 
she was not to return there ! 

We must, now, hear what she was doing with these 
receipts to which Fraulein Von Stedingk refers. 

Her first appearance was to be in La Figlia, on De- 
cember 3rd. The price of the tickets for all her appearances 
was raised 50 per cent, on their ordinary cost ; and on 
December 2nd, in an evening paper, the 'Aftonllad, an 
explanation of this raised demand was given by Jenny 

192 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. ii. 

Lincl herself. She wrote a letter, addressed to the owner of 
the newspaper, Mr. Lars Hierta, a great merchant and 
distinguished citizen of Stockholm, requesting the insertion 
in the Aftonhlad of the following communication : — 

" At the moment of reappearing, after an interval of two 
years, on the stage of my native country, before that public, 
which, from the time of my first steps on the path of Art, 
has shown me so much favour, it is the desire of my heart 
to ask for a continuance of the same rare good-will for the 
performances, in which I am now going to appear, I am 
moved to this by a special reason, which I beg respectfully 
to submit to the attention of the enlightened public; and 
I also consider myself in duty bound to furnish an explana- 
tion of the reason for raising the prices at the representations 
in which I am now going to take part. 

" My most ardent wish is to be allowed to be of some 
lasting use to Native Art ; to offer some kind of souvenir, 
more '^lasting than the quickly-passing moments of my 
appearance on the boards ; and to prepare for my countrymen 
enjoyments of the loftier kind, for the years to come, when 
my own efforts shall have ceased. I hope to do this by 
laying the foundations of a College, where young minds 
should be consecrated to both Art and Virtue. 

" Having been, myself, in childhood, a witness to the priva- 
tions and trials through which the young and needy have 
to struggle in this profession, which holds so many thorns 
amongst the roses, I should count it the most beautiful 
t^^ain of the Singer's gift if, by means of this, 1 could con- 
tribute to help those who are favoured by nature but ill-treated 
by fortune, to a development of their talent in comparative 
ease and comfort, and to a culture that will be advantageous 
alike from a moral and artistical point of view. 

" With this intention, I have assigned the whole amount of 
my portion of the receipts from the representations in which 
I shall appear, towards establishing a fund, the income of 
which is to be devoted to an institution for educating poor 
children who, while specially endowed for the stage, lack 
the care of parents or relatives without which, in a moral 
and artistic respect, they either lose, or else fail to reaph, 
the higher development, for which their gifts would give 
reasonable hopes. 

" The money obtained will be received and' managed by 

1847.] ROME AGAIN. 193 

two Trustees, until the amount of the Capital will allow of 
the interest being used for the object in view. 

" The lenient kindness of the public which hitherto has 
encovn-aged my efibrts in the service of Art, will — I trust — 
follow me also now that these endeavours are dedicated to a 
work, the success of which must be a matter of interest to 
every friend of Dramatic Art within our Fatherland. 

" Jenny Lind, 

" Stockholm, 2nd December, 1847." 

This communication to the paper signalises an intention 
which, for some time forward, became one of her primary 
interests. It was her tribute to Sweden. From the time 
that she won her place in the European drama, she never 
sung in her native land again on her own behalf. She would 
take no penny from it. Eather, she bent herself to repay to 
it, by gifts, the support and the kindness which it had given 
her in her youth. She had been " a child of the State," 
Ijrought up by its fatherly solicitude, at its charge, at its 
risk. She felt herself pledged by her honour, as well as by 
her affection, to make to it a thankful, a generous recogni- 

Then, too, she had a great desire to find adequate work 
and interest to occupy her in her northern home. It should 
not be for idleness, or for uselessness, that she would retreat 
thither from the big world. If she ceased to do good by her 
Dramatic talents, as she must, through leaving the stage, 
she would, yet, find other ways of helping men. " I have no 
fear of feeling any void," she writes during this very month 
to Madame Wichmann, "for I can do much good here, and 
have already begun to set about it." 

And there were special reasons, as she thought, for some 
such effort at doing good. For, profoundly as she loved her 
people, she felt, on her return this time to Stockholm, an 
increased sense of their peculiar moral perils. It may have 
been that the religious influence, under which she had passed 


194 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. ii. 

in England, had deepened lier alarm at all that was super- 
ficial, and thoughtless. Certainly, she was at times, during 
the winter, greatly afflicted at the lack of seriousness which 
she met on all sides : " I love my fatherland as much as 
ever," she wrote, on the 14th of February, 1848, to Madame 
von Jaeger, her devoted Viennese friend, whom she salutes 
as " Loved and honoured Mother ; " but — 

" There is, here, I confess, such frivolousness in everything, 

that I am sad I sometimes doubt whether I can find 

joy and happiness liere. .... The last three years have 
given me a great deal clearer insight. l)o not imagine that 
they do not treat me well ; on the contrary : I have nothing 
at all to complain of, myself: only, it does pain me that our 
nation should, through French influence, have lost so much 
of its true self." 

So she felt : and, it was in order to attempt to rescue the 
stage, from these perverting influences which had largely 
dominated it since the early part of the century, that she 
set about her present scheme on behalf of her own old 
Theatre- School. 

It was a touching naturalness, which drew her heart 
towards the scene of her childhood. Her first deliberate act 
of permanent charity was to be devoted to sparing other 
children some of the trials and perils, which had been her 
own lot. As we read the record of her purpose, expressed 
in this Afto7iblad with all the innate freedom of her 
characteristic personality, we see at once, in every word, how 
it rose up out of her own innermost mind. Her own ex- 
perience, her own history, her own memories were woven up 
into the act on which she had set her heart. 

And, then, too, with this personal element, we notice that 
there was included, also, her strong conception of the wide 
range of the culture necessary to an artistic development. 
Art must belong to the Life. It must be in living contact 

1848.] HOME AGAIN. 195 

with all that constitutes the fulness, the integrity, the 
nobility, of human nature. 

And, above all (as she was convinced), it must draw deeply 
on the moral springs. Thence rise its nourishing waters. 
Art and Virtue — these two run down to one root. It is 
impossible, she considered, for the gifts and talents inbred 
by nature to spring up into their true estate, unless they be 
compassed about with moral succours. All her belief, all 
her self, is pledged to this conviction. A dramatic educa- 
tion must then be a school, also, of virtue, where the 
powers, given of God, can grow according to God's mind, 
unchilled by penury, unthwarted by harsh and rough mis- 

It was a noble conviction ; and it was, in her recorded 
design, most simply and nobly expressed. As years went on, 
the design itself received a transformation which embodied 
the mental changes which passed over her own spirit. Our 
readers will find recorded in an Appendix the remarkable 
development of this, her primary bequest to Sweden.* 
Enough now to say that the Royal Theatre was crowded 
night after night in spite of the raised cost, and that the 
eutu'e sum of her own gains from the season went to the 
proposed fund. Her agreement with the theatre was that 
she should receive a third of the receipts which remained, 
after the payment of current expenses, on each night of her 
appearance; and that she should be entitled to name for 
herself the date of a benefit performance. She was also given 
the right to select her own pieces. The contract is signed 
by Count Hugo Hamilton, the Intendant. 

Her voice, about which a few suspicious rumours had been 
flying about, owing to the fatigue and strain of her incessant 
efforts in Germany, was in its normal splendour. " She is 

* See Appendix IT. 


196 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. ii. 

now in her beloved Stockholm," wrote Madame Wichmann, 
on December 27th, to Madame Jaeger, whom these rumours 
had disquieted, "and has rested herself, and has appeared 
in her fullest power and glory, at the theatre." 

She sang in the Figlia ten times during the winter and 
spring months, three of these performances being given for 
the benefit of (1) the Theatre Pension Fund ; (2) the Chorus, 
and (3) the Conductor, J. F. Berwald. 

She gave four performances of the Soiinambula in January, 
and four of Lucia in March and April — singing this part 
for the fifty-sixth time on the Stockholm stage on April 3rd. 
The Freischutz was sung twice, once on behalf of Strand- 
berg, the first tenor at the Eoyal Theatre, once on behalf of 
the Chapel at the Deaf and Dumb Institute, near Stock- 
holm. The first of these performances was given on March 
7th, the anniversary of her dehit in the part of Agatha on 
the memorable 7th of March, 1838. She now sang it for 
the forty-first time on those boards. A little paper left at 
her death i^ecords some souvenir given her by Queen Desideria 
in memory of this night. She took two new characters so far 
as Stockholm was concerned — " Adina," in the Flisir d'Amore,. 
given five times in February, and Susanna in the JSfozze di 
Figaro, which she had sung in Munich in December 1846, 
and which Hauser had, then, described to Mendelssohn in 
glowing terms. 

Besides this work at the Opera, there were concerts — one 
at Her Majesty the Queen Desideria's on December 1st ; * 
and all the rest for old friends, and associates; for Mina 
Fundin, her dear ally in childhood ; for Eandel, the concert- 
master ; for the Artists' Guild Pension Fund ; for Josephson, 
the composer ; for Arnold, an organist and composer ; for the 
Eoyal Orchestra Pension Fund; for D'Aubert, the concert- 

* She was made First Court Singer by Oscar I. on December 24tli of 
that year ; and she retained this special privilege until her death. 

1848.] HOME AGAIN. 197 

leader ; for Theodor Sack, tlie principal violoncellist at the 
Eoyal Opera. So it went on. 

And finally, for the thirty-third and thirty-fourth time in 
Stockholm, she gave Norma, first for the machinists of the 
theatre; and secondly for sundry other persons, now un- 
named, on whose behalf the tickets were sold by public 

With Norma, it all ended, on April 12th. It was her last 
appearance on the Swedish stage — her last representation 
in the theatre, which had heard the first notes of her child- 
voice, as she tripped over its boards, a tiny girl hardly ten 
years old, bewitching the audience by her astonishing, 
"almost unnatural" cleverness — the theatre which had 
thrilled to the revealed splendour of her genius on the historic 
night when she discovered her power, and " went to bed a 
new creature." There, on those boards, familiar to her feet 
iis the very floor of home, she had won for herself those 
«arly dramatic experiences, with which she had fascinated 
and enthralled Europe ; there she had, step by step, moved 
from triumph to triumph, until the artistic resources of her 
native land had been exhausted, and she had been driven, by 
the impulsion of an aspiring spirit, to seek, elsewhere, for that 
development which should be level mth her fullest powers. 
Tliither she had returned, with the required power, to find 
the same faithful enthusiasm ready to respond to her, only 
with more ardent loyalty than ever. So long, so close was 
the story which knit her to that Stockholm theatre \, such 
deep memories lay about her there : such a record of hopes 
and fears and wonders: and, now, that page was to be 
closed for ever. For the very last time, she had waited 
in those wings for the step forward which should carry 
her into the roar of welcome. For the very last time 
within the well-known walls, she had felt the whole body of 
silent people absorbed into her own masterful and magnetic 

ID'8 JENNY LIND. [bk. VIII. CH. li. 

influence, as she held them, spellbound, within the power of 
her gaiety, or her passion. It was all over, on that night of 
April the 12th when the last notes of Norma died on the ear. 
Traulein Yon Stedingk was present and writes : 

"She surpassed herself. When she came before the 
curtain at the close, the whole audience rose ; and many an 
eye was wet." 

The famous picture of her as IsTorma, by Sodermark, which 
is the treasured pride of Stockholm, was painted during this 
season. It was subscribed for by the employes at the Eoyal 
Theatre, and presented to the theatre to be placed there, on 
January 6th, 1849. It put the seal on the belief of her own 
people, that her delineation of Norma was her most trium- 
phant achievement ; and most certainly it was the character 
which she herself always selected, whether as a challenge 
to criticism on her entry upon some new boards, or as her 
best farewell to any familiar stage. 

In the middle of all this smooth happiness, came the 
irritatino- news of the verdict in the suit of Bunn v. Lind. 
That wearisome tangle had, at last, come to a close. On 
the 23rd of February, the case was heard in London before 
Sir W. Erie, sitting in the Court of Queen's Bench. Mr. 
Cockburn, afterwards Lord Chief Justice, and Sir F. 
Thesiger, afterwards Lord Chancellor, represented Mr. Bunn ; 
wMle the Attorney-General appeared on behalf of Jenny 
Lind. ]\Ir. Cockburn had the cynical audacity to declare 
that her own absolute denial, in her letter to Mr. Bunn, 
of any overtures made to her by Mr. Lumley at Her 
Majesty's Theatre was evidence that those overtures were the 
reason why she threw over the contract. How absolutely 
false to fact this suggestion was, we already have heard. He 
moreover actually asserted that, if she could learn to speak 
"jaw-breaking German," it was ridiculous to plead her 

1848.] EOME AGAIN. 199 

inability to get up English in a few months. We may 
charitably hope that this was meant for a joke ; but we may 
doubt whether a British jury woukl not take it seriously. 
The damages claimed were £10,000 ; and these were based 
on the standard receipts of Madame Malibran in the height 
of her fame. The Attorney- General pleaded that the contract 
had dropped through Mr. Bunn being unable, on his own 
showing, to provide the music for Vidlca by the date men- 
tioned in the contract. He argued that, as to damages, all 
Mr. Bunn could claim of positive loss was the price of a 
journey to Berlin, and the £150 spent by him in translating 
the Fddlagcr into English. Sir W. Erie summed up 
minutely ; and the jury finally gave a verdict in favour of 
Mr. Bunn, with £2,500 damages. 

Mr. Lumley had, as we know, made himself responsible for 
the loss. But the result must have been bitterly vexatious. 
Of course, she had let the proper date pass before which 
she was to make her objections to the contract, and so had 
put herself legally wrong. But we are aware how ignorant 
she was of aU the arts by which to escape the meshes of the 
law, or to guard herself against the brutalities of managers. 
She had been trapped into the engagement before she knew 
what she was doing or the situation into which she was 
coming. Her reasons against the contract were real: she 
could not have learned English in the time; her nervous 
dread of failure through singing in a foreign tongue, was 
profoundly genuine, however improbable it might sound in 
the atmosphere of a law court. We know the extremity of 
her self-mistrust, the agony of her diffidence. Bunn treated 
her appeals with a vulgar insolence, that was bad enough to 
deprive him of aU claim to compensation. As we read his 
rough letters, it softens our regret that, for conduct of this 
type, he was once soundly thrashed by Macready. 

The jury were, probably, moved by the sense that he had 

200 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. ii. 

just missed a splendid chance of success, and deserved some 
practical consolation for his mischance. The Attorney- 
General moved for an appeal before a higher court ; but Lord 
Chief Justice Denman held that the damages were not exces- 
sive on the ground that Madame Malibran's receipts afforded a 
reasonable standard. It is well to remember that Mr. Bunn 
had not offered Jenny Lind even half the salary that he had 
given Madame Malibran ; so that his damages were calcu- 
lated on a far higher scale than the risk which he ran at the 
time of the contract. 

However, so, at last, the tiresome business is over; and 
we can be thankful to hear no more of it. It was the 
only occasion, in all her life, in which she ever heard her- 
self accused of motives which it was a degradation to her even 
to be charged with. To those who ever knew her, it sounds 
like a silly jest that she should ever have had to endure the 
accusation of rapacity, or sharp dealing — so incomprehen- 
sible and so remote would such motives have always been 
to her. But, jest as it may sound to us, to her it was 
cruel and bitter enough ; and, no doubt, the verdict stung 
her like a sharp blow. 

Yet no record remains of its effect upon her; and home 
was kind and tender and soothing; and every trouble 
there, was clearing; and, in witness of this, we will make 
one little record which will happily mark this season of 
farewell to the Swedish stage. The time of her entry upon 
its boards, in 1829, had been, it will be well remembered, 
a time of much domestic trouble ; and that theatre had been 
to little Jenny, a refuge and a home, to which she ran for 
peace. But, now, things were bettered. Her mother, who 
had, with such a shrinking heart, handed over her child 
to a scene so alien and so dreaded, was now freed from the 
conflict of a pinched and broken life, and had softened, and 

1848.] HOME AGAIN. 201 

"My own real motlier is just come in;" Jeuuy writes 
on the 14tli of February, to the Viennese lady, Madame 
Jaeger, whom she always addressed as " mother." 

" She and my father live in the country " (in the house she 
had given them), " and have come in to-day to see the Elisir 
d'Amorc, in which I am ' Adina.' ]\Iy mother begs to send 
a thousand greetings to you, unkno\\'n as you are to her, 
and as I tell her what you have been to me, her eyes fill 
with tears of joy . . . My mother is so sympathetic towards 
me (winch, perhaps, was not always the case) ; and she 
seems to be so happy, and contented, — a happiness which I 
had hardly dared to hope for." 

In contrast to tliis home-gladness, there lay heavy on her 
soul, all this time, the misery of INIendelssohn's death.* 

She could not bear even to open a letter to her from 
Madame Birch-Pfeiffer in which she felt that there would be 
reference to it : for, as she wrote back : — 

" As soon as I am obliged to hear or read anything about 
him, I get almost incapable of carrying out the great duty 
which I have taken upon my shoulders. 

"Death has lately robbed me of several of my dearest 
friends : so that I am afraid I shall soon begin to feel cold 
here in the North ! And yet, dear good mother, my heart is 
tied and chained to this ground, and this people. God be 
praised for it ! 

" I am well : though I have no rest. All is right now^vith 
my parents. Besides singing in Operas, I sing two or three 
times a month in concerts, and can thus help some on to a 
better lot in time. 

" To-day the sun is shining brightly. Oh ! if you could 
but see the white sparkling snow on the roofs ! From my 
window I see several mills : and a few churches ; and on 
one of them sits a gilt cock who probably amuses himself. 
Oh ! how I wish that I too could be in the air, for the earth 
oppresses me. Mother, mother, I do not belong to this 
world ; my heart will not stay in its narrow prison ! . . . . 

" But, in spite of all this, there is no being who could have 
more reason to be happy and grateful than I ! I am both. 
Farewell ! God keep you all ! u your loving «. Jenny." 

* November 4, 1H47. 

202 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. ii. 

So she wrote to her "German mother" on Jan. 22. In 
the following month, in the letter already quoted to her 
" Austrian mother," Madame Jaeger, she wrote : — 

" Ah ! mother ! what a blow for me was the death of Men- 
delssohn ! That is wliy I have been silent so long. For 
the first two months after it, I could not put a word down 
on paper : and everything seemed to me to be dead. Never 
was I so happy — so lifted in spirit, as when I spoke with 
him ! and seldom can there have been in the world two 
beings who so understood one another, and so sympathized 
with one another as we! How glorious and strange are 
the ways of God ! On the one hand, He gives all ! On 
the other, He takes all away! Such is life's outlook." 

For two whole years after that fatal November, she could 
not bear to sing a "Lied" of Mendelssohn's. "With his loss, 
there had passed out of her life the profoundest and most 
intimate influence under which she had ever come ; for it 
was an influence which touched her whole being, at once in 
its most real and its most ideal elements. AVith him, she 
felt the same blending of the artistic aspiration with the 
personal character which she knew in herself; and both 
with character and with aspiration, she was in innermost 
sympathy. To both, their art intermingled its potencies 
with all that was most spiritual and individual in their 
personalities ; their entire natures, in their deepest religious 
motives, identified themselves with that which issued from 
them both as music. To both, the artist-life was a reveren- 
tial trust, endowed with awe, hallowed by mystic respon- 
sibilities. Drawn to one another by this vital unity of 
motive, they responded, each to the other with a glad and 
delightful freedom such as belongs only to those whose 
central selves are in perfect touch. Each word that one or 
the other spoke was known to be understood. There is a 
joy in such sympathetic intimacies which is 'electric. Both 

1848.] HOME AGAIN. 203 

had felt it in its most ideal form. And, now, it is this 
which is aone from her. It left a blank which the slow 
years could never quite fill ; but the loss would have been 
yet more deadening, were it not that her enjoyment of his 
influence had been so very, very brief, that the heart was 
bound to recover its freshness ; and nowhere sooner than at 
home, in the thick of good and happy work. 

We have seen to what charitable purposes eight of her 
special operatic performances, and all her concerts had 

There remained the winnings earned by twenty-seven 
nights at the Eoyal Opera,— about £2,200 — all of which 
went to the fund which she had planned for the Theatre 
School. This fund was to be allowed to accumulate by 
interest until it had reached a certain limit. For the 
present, there it was to lie, a wonderful witness to the 
mind which was in her during this visit to Sweden. The 
mere record of all this charity tells its own tale; and 
needs no added words to enforce its significance. It is, 
simply, an illustration, in the most vivid form possible, of 
her temper. 

So the final season on the home boards came to its end. 
She must leave for England. 

" I delight in thinking of my next London season," she 
wrote to Madame Jaeger : " for I have so many reasons for 
being grateful towards the London public that it lays a 
necessity upon me to make a worthy return for it all ! I 
believe that the coming summer will bring me many joys, 
for I am taking to London, as my companion my good, old 
master (Herr Berg) and his wife, and little daughter ; and I 
cannot be better off than with them ! " 

There was another long-standing friend, besides Herr 
Berg, who was particularly concerned with her happy hopes 
at this moment. This was Herr Julius Giinther. We do 
not propose, in this work, to enter into all the private and 

204 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. ii. 

domestic incidents of our heroine's life, except so far as tliey 
touch her artistic career. It is not for us, therefore, to 
follow minutely the long story, over which we, here, must 
give a rapid glance. We need but indicate, in the briefest 
manner, how matters had stood between her, and Herr 
Giinther, before they reached tliis decisive moment. With him 
she had sung continually both before and after her visit to 
Paris — both in Opera, and in the concert-room. The obvious 
contact, which this involved, had grown into a closer inti- 
macy during her triumphant season, in 1844, at Stockholm ; 
and just before leaving for her great experiment in Berlin in 
1845, this intimacy had been recognised as tending to an en- 
gagement. This understanding had become strained, and prac- 
tically suspended, under the busy and wonderful experiences 
of her long absence on the Continent, and in England, Herr 
Giinther had been wandering, as well as she : he had been 
in Paris, under Garcia ; much had been happening on botli 
sides. But, now, that they were both back again in Sweden, 
the former relations revived, and culminated, Herr Giinther 
saw reasons to trust that, in spite of his fears lest this 
European success, this splendid career, should carry her 
beyond his scope and influence, she, still, would respond to 
Ms appeal ; and he spoke ; and he found favour, and rings 
were exchanged. She sailed on April 13th. 

(Jne tiny and touching memorial of this time was found 
among her papers at her death ; it is a song called " Hem- 
langtan " (Heimweh), in MS., set to music by Prince Gustav, 
brother of the Crown Prince, and sent her from himself on 
the 7th of March, Evidently he knew well what the date 
signified to her ; and he, probably, knew, also, how intimateh^ 
the subject of his song would appeal to her heart. She 
greatly enjoyed this friendship with Prince Gustav; the 
graceful and tender skill of the song proves how much he 
could enter into her musical sympathies ; it was continued in 

1848.] HOME AGAIN. 205 

her later visit to Stockholm in 1850 ; and she grieved pro- 
foundly at his early death in 1852.* 

When the hour of departure arrived, everything was done 
to heighten its excitement. The Swedes, touched by her 
magnificent generosity, were eager to signalize their admira- 
tion in a special outburst of enthusiasm. " No one can re- 
member a more solemn farewell offered to any private 
person," wrote one of the officials at the theatre. 

" She left at 2 p.m. by the steamer ' Gauthiod.' Already, 
as early as twelve o'clock huge heaps of people began arriving, 
at Skeppsbron, which was filled with foot-passengers and 
carriages. The ships nearest the ' Gauthiod ' were also 
crowded, even up in the rigging, and so were numbers of 
rowing-boats, moving about in the port. The choir of the 
opera were placed in barges near to the steamer, and sang 
several pieces, conducted by choir-master Wennbom. In 
another boat, the band of the Uplands regiment had taken 
their stand, performing airs from the Operas in which she 
had appeared. 

" As the steamer weighed anchor, the multitude gave re- 
peated cheers, men and women waving hats and handker- 
chiefs, which continued as long as a glimpse of the ' Gau- 
thiod ' could be caught. She seemed very much moved ; and 
often had to interrupt her friendly responses with her hand- 
chief, to use it to wipe away her tears." 

As she reviewed, in her memory, this winter in Stockholm, 
she was stirred to even more than her usual fervour for all 
that was Home. 

She put her retrospect into words, in a letter from London, 
written on July 10 th, to Madame Kaulbach at Munich : — 

" I have been in my beloved country, and have felt most 

* Prince Frans Gustaf Oscar, born IStli of June, 1827 ; died 24th of 
September, 1852. 

206 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. ii. 

deeply how powerful is the love for it that I have cherished 
from childhood. My King — the whole Eoyal Family — the 
country — the ground — oh ! I could have kissed them all ! 
And with tears of profound reverence in my eyes ! What a 
glorious time I have had there ! The cordiality, the feeling 
of home, the language, — all enchanted me. And I was 
staying so pleasantly with my dear good aunt ; and I got 
together a great deal of money for the poor. . . . See, my 
dearest friend ! This is what I have experienced ! " 



( 207 ) 



And now, the course of our narrative brings us back, once 
more, to Clairville Cottage, where Mdlle. Lind arrived, after 
her long sojourn in Stockholm, on the 21st of April ; and 
where, a few hours afterwards, Mrs. Grote found her, " looking 
well, and in gay cheerful mood, anticipating, with agreeable 
feelings, the coming months of her stay." 

"Jenny Lind arrived," she tells us, "on Good Friday, 
straight from Sweden, via Hamburg. I saw her the same 
evening at Clairville, when she received me with cordial 
marks of attachment and of pleasure at seeing me again. 
Her early music-master, M. Berg, and his wife and daughter, 
have come over to reside with her, during the season, and 
compose a very pleasant menage for Jenny. She is in good 
spirits and health ; and we have ridden out on horseback 
together, once or twice, which she enjoys prodigiously."* 

The enthusiasm with which her arrival was greeted 
equalled that which had prevailed in 1847. 

"All London," says Mr. Lumley, "knew that Jenny 
Lind had come ; and all London again took up its excite- 
ment at the same point of fever-heat at .which it had stood 
at the moment of her departure, in the ]3revious year." f 

In so far as the course of her private and social life was 
concerned, the events of this second season in England were 

* From Mrs. Grote's MS. Note-Book. 
t ' Kemiuiscences of the Opera,' p. 216. 

208 JENNY LINT). [bk. viii. ch, hi. 

of far greater moment, and exercised far deeper influence 
upon her future career, than those of the first. In its 
artistic phase, the second season was, if possible, even more 
triumphantly successful, in certain points, than the former 
one ; for it showed that she was as great in Oratorio as in 
Opera. For the sake of clearness, we shall first treat of this 
memorable season in its artistic aspect, leaving all private 
matters for our later chapters ; but the reader will find, in 
the sequel, that the two series of events were very closely 
linked together, and influenced each other very deeply. 

Her Majesty's Theatre opened, for the season of 1848,. 
on Saturday, the 19th of February, with Verdi's Ernani, in 
which Mdlle. Cruvelli made her first appearance before an 
English audience. 

It was confidently expected that Mdlle. Lind's return to 
the boards on which she had won so many laurels would take 
place on Saturday, the 29 th of April, immediately after the 
Easter recess ; but, at her own earnest request, the event wa& 
postponed, for a reason which is amusingly explained by 
Mr. Lumley : — 

"Yes I Jenny Lind was amongst us, and the most eager 
expectations were raised as to her first appearance. When ? 
— How ? — What would she play ? — were the questions 
impatiently asked. 

" It was earnestly desired that she would appear on 
Saturday, the 29th of April. But, with the natural 
tendency of the Scandinavian temperament to believe in 
occult influences, she laid great stress on the fact that tlie 
4th of May — the ensuing Thursday — was the date of her first 
appearance on the London boards ; and she therefore decided 
that, on the 4th of May — and not before the 4th of May — she 
would celebrate lier return to the boards of Her Majesty's 
Theatre." * 

The Opera chosen for her reappearance was La, 

* ' Eeminiscences of the Opera,' p. 21G. 


of which Chopm, who had just come to London, wrote, at the 
beginning of May, to his friend Grzymala : — 

" I have been to the Italian Opera, where Jenny Lind 
appeared, for the first time, in La Sonnamhicla, and the 
Queen showed herself, for the first time, to the people, after 
a long retirement. Both were, of course, of much interest to 
me ; more especially, however, the Duke of Wellington, who, 
like an old faithful dog in a cottage, sat in the box below his 
crowned mistress. 

" I have also made Jenny Lind's personal acquaintance. 
When, a few days afterwards, I paid her a visit, she received 
me in the most amiable manner, and sent me an excellent 
' stall ' for the Opera, where I was capitally seated, and heard 

" This Swede is indeed an original from head to foot. She 
does not show herself in the ordinary light, but in the magic 
rays of an aurora horealis. Her singing is infallibly pure and 
true ; but, above all, I admire her piano passages, the charm 
of which is indescribable." * 

In the following July, Chopin gave two matinees in 
London ; one, at No. 99 Eaton Place, the residence of Mrs. 
Sartoris (formerly, Miss Adelaide Kemble) ; the other, at 
the house of Lord Falmouth, No. 2 St. James's Square. In 
describing these, a musical periodical flippantly observes : — 

" ]\I. Chopin has lately given two performances of his own 
pianoforte music at the residence of Mrs. Sartoris, which seem 
to have given much pleasure to his audiences, among whom 
Mdlle. Lind, who was present at the first, seems to be the 
most enthusiastic. 

" We were not present at either ; and, therefore, have 
nothing to say on the subject." f 

It is gratifying, in connection with Chopin's expressions of 
admiration for Mdlle. Lind's artistic nature, to know that she 
felt an equal admiration for his extraordinary genius — an 
admiration which increased as years rolled on, and as she 

* From ' The Life of Chopin,' by Fr. Niecks. (London, 1890.) 
t From The Musical World (July 8, 1848). 


210 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. hi. 

became better acquainted with his works, of which she never 
spoke without enthusiasm. 

When the Crowns of Sweden and Poland were temporarily 
united, in the year 1587, a Slavonic Dance called the Polska 
became very popular among the Swedes, who have retained 
its wild melodies among their national music to the present 
day. Mdlle. Lind sang some Polshas to Chopin, on the 
occasion of his visit ; and he expressed the utmost delight at 
her rendering of the familiar strains. Indeed, so thoroughly 
did she sympathise with the inner life of the music, to which 
Chopin's genius lent so beautiful a colouring, that, after her 
marriage, she introduced into her Concert-Programmes a 
Becueil dc Mazourhas selected from his works, and adapted 
to Italian words, concluding the fourth and last melody 
with a remarkable cadenza founded upon one of its themes 
wliich will be found in the Aijpendix of Music attached to 
this volume. The success of this most original perfor- 
mance rendered its repetition in succeedijig programmes 
almost a necessity. But this did not take place until some 
years after the period of which Ave have been speaking, and 
to which we must now return. 

Mr. Lumley was delighted at the excitement which 
attended the reappearance of Mdlle. Lind at his theatre 
and thus narrated the attendant circumstances : — 

" The privileged of the Theatre told tales of the appearance 
of the Swedish Nightingale at rehearsal ; of her enthusiastic 
reception by the members of the orchestra ; of her over- 
powering emotion on facing this tumultuously-fiattering 
welcome ; and of her undiminished, nay, increased powers ! 

" The scenes of excitement in all the thoroughfares 
leading to the theatre were once more renewed. Again 
were struggling crowds early at the doors ; again were hats 
doubled up, and dresses torn ; and again was the throng of 
carriages, the clamour and conflict of coachmen, servants, 
policemen, spectators, and mob, the same as of yore. A 
'Jenny Lind crush' had lost nothing of its fervour and 


intensity. Words would fail to describe the appearance 
of the overcrowded house, the tumultuous reception, the 
enthusiasm which knew no bounds and no limits of time ; 
or, to give an idea of the prolonged cheering that followed 
every vocal display on the part of this idol of the public, 
in a house crowded to impossibility, which eagerness and 
determination had exercised their magic to make possible. 

" The Court was present ; and an incident, independent of 
the great event of the evening, is worthy of record. 

" It was the first appearance of the Queen, in public, since 
the famous 10th of April, when English loyalty and English 
pluck had pretty clearly shown that England could have 
nothing to fear from the revolutionary elements which were 
just then rife in Europe, driving monarchs from their thrones. 
Wlien the British sovereign first reappeared among her 
subjects, loyalty was not to be baulked of a fitting 
demonstration ; and, in spite of the etiquette of the day, 
which allowed the Queen, as well as her subjects, to enjoy 
a dramatic entertainment without interruption, she was 
received with such universal homage of acclamation, that 
she was constrained to appear in the front of her box to 
acknowledge the demonstration, wliile the ISTational Anthem 
was sung by the chief singers of the establishment. 

" Well might the newspapers of the da}^ preface then- 
record by the phrase, ' The great evening of the season has 
come off, and the result has been most brilliant.' " * 

On the 6th of May, La Sonnamhula was repeated, and 
again on the 16th; on the 11th, 13th, and 18th, MdUe. Lind 
sang in La Figlia del Beggimento ; and, on the 25th, she 
appeared, for the first time in England, in Donizetti's Lucia 
cli Lammcrmoor. 

Lucia had always been one of her favourite Operas. She 
had sung in it many times in Stockholm ; and, occasionally, 
in Hanover, and other parts of Germany. The part of Lucy 
Ashton was, indeed, pre-eminently suited to the display of 
her peculiar talent. She painted, to perfection, the vacilla- 
ting character of the timid, shrinking maiden ; her love for 
Edgar Eavenswood, devoted, true, faithful even, so far as she 

* ' Keminiscences of the Opera,' pp. 218-19. 

p 2 

212 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. iii. 

had strength to resist the pressure put upon her ; her womanly 
determination withstanding, for a time, the alternate threats 
and entreaties of her despicable brother, yet not courageous 
enough to bear the last dread shock ; her passionate despair, 
when she had broken faith with her lover, and signed the 
irrevocable contract ; above all, her fatal madness, depicted 
in that last great scene, in which she aimed at, and was 
admitted by all to have reached, an ideal so high, that its 
infinite pathos, its ineffable sadness, could only be compared 
with the touching charm that some of the greatest of our 
English actresses have, on rare occasions, succeeded in 
weaving around the gentle hallucinations of Ophelia. The 
music with which Donizetti has illustrated this trying scene, 
though it may fairly be ranked among the most successful 
productions of the modern Italian school, is poor material 
indeed, compared with the deathless utterances of Shake- 
speare — but no one felt that anything was wanting. It may 
be safely said, that there was not a heart among the audience 
that it did not touch. And in none of her favourite Italian 
parts was the vocalisation more masterly, more astonishingly 
perfect, than in this. The brilliant execution, the faultless 
trilU, the ravishing pianissimo ; the stream of sound, now 
rich and full, now so soft as to be scarcely audible, while yet 
it filled the theatre to its remotest boundary — the stream of 
sound itself was a thing of rarest beauty, apart from the 
sense infused into it by power of articulation, just as the hue 
of purest ultramarine is beautiful, upon the painter's palette, 
apart from the form and chiaroscuro into which his pencil 
weaves it. 

Besides its general charm, there were some noticeable 
details in the performance, which raised it far above all 
previous interpretations of the part. The dazzling brilliancy 
of the aria d'entrata baffled all description. Composed, 
originally, for Madame Persiani, it was in itself little more 


tlian a graceful vehicle for the display of faultless execution, 
and the facility and clearness with which its new interpreter 
complied with the demands made upon her technical skill, in 
this department of her art, astonished even those who had 
heard Madame Persiani at her best. But, beyond this, she 
threw into it a longing passion, an unutterable tenderness, 
which at once, and in the very first scene, gave the clue 
to her conception of Lucy Ashton's character ; and this 
conception she consistently carried out, to the last note 
uttered by the distraught and broken-hearted " Bride," in the 
last of her changeful hallucinations. From the opening 
scene, to the closing one, the character of Lucy Ashton was a 
consistent whole ; and never before had it been illustrated in 
such sort as to impress the hearer with a sadness equal to 
that felt after reading the harrowing story of her life as 
narrated by the sympathetic pen of Sir Walter Scott. Her 
acting was, throughout, so natural, and so perfectly adapted 
to the physical demands of the scene, that, some time 
afterwards, an intimate friend saw her sign an important 
paper — as real, to her, as the marriage-contract was to Lucy 
— in the exact position into which she had fallen when 
signing the mimic contract on the stage — and was struck 
with wonder at the strange coincidence. Even her most 
difficult achievements in the domain of technical vocalisation 
were made subservient to the dramatic consistency of the 
situation. Again, in the great Sestett — CJii raffrcna il mio 
furore — which immediately follows the moment of the fatal 
signature, and which is accepted, even by the bitterest 
enemies of modern Italian music, as an inspiration of 
which any school of composition might have been proud, 
she was herself inspired by the passion which had animated 
the composer. Her astonishment at the unexpected 
appearance of Edgar Eavenswood, her grief, her terror, her 
shame at her own weakness, were displayed with such 

214 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. hi. 

perfect truth to nature, that the listener himself felt every 
changing emotion at the point at which it passed through 
her own soul. And when, at the climax, she closed on 
the D flat in alt., instead of in the lower octave indicated 
in the score, the effect was that of a cry of agonised 
passion, and not of a brilliant high note reached by the 
skill of an accomplished vocalist. All thouglit of skill was 
forgotten in the perfection of the dramatic effect. When- 
ever, in later performances, we have heard more or less 
successful imitation of this tour de force, now become matter 
of tradition, we have involuntarily thought more of the 
D flat, than of Lucy's agony of soul. 

The following critique is one of many which appeared on 
the day after the performance : — 

" Last ni^ht was the most remarkable one of the season. 
Mdlle. Lind appeared, for the first time, in Lucia di 
Lamincrmoor, and raised to the highest enthusiasm the 
immense audience that had attended. 

" In the 8ccna, and duet, in the first act, she employed all 
her vocal resources. The ornaments she introduced showed 
at once her invention and her fine power of execution, while 
all those familiar effects of her own — such as the irresistiljle 
decrescendo — were unsparingly used, and with admirable 

" But it was in the second and third acts that she gave the 
character a stamp that distinguished it from any other 
rendering, bringing out the distress and madness of the 
unhappy 'Lucia' with a force that has hitherto remained 
unkno^vn. The sudden horror that came over her, and 
paralysed her for a moment, when the letter was placed m 
her hands, to convince her of the infidelity of ' Edgardo,' was 
finely conceived ; and the effect was heightened by a new 
point. Snatching the letter from her brother's hands, slie 
gazed at it once more, as if to ascertain that the first impres- 
sion had been only a delusion. 

" The madness was wonderfully interpreted. The eye, 
glaring and vacant, appeared absorbed by fantasies, and 
blind to all external objects. The passions by which she is 
supposed to be influenced, while in this paiiiful situation, 


are of the most varied kind ; but she never for a moment lost 
sight of the insanity. However eloquent the song, the 
countenance was never fully lighted up by its meaning. 
The discordance between the internal and the external world 
was terribly preserved. To give the scene its full importance, 
Mdlle. Lind has restored much of the music which is now 
generally omitted ; and, at the conclusion, instead of 
running off the stage in the usual fashion, she fell senseless, 
which brought the situation to a more pointed conclusion. 
Altogether, this mad scene is a rare exhibition of genius, 
the fine fresh voice of the singer giving a substance to the 
creation of her mind. The character of ' Lucia ' ^vill un- 
questionably be ranked among Mdlle. Lind's most brilliant 
successes. The audience were kept in a state of the greatest 
excitement ; and plaudits, repeated calls, and bouquets, 
marked their unbounded delight." * 

In comparing this masterly interpretation of the part of 
" Lucia " with Mdlle. Lind's other great creations, it is neces- 
sary to remember that she could only give free rein to her 
genius, in fullest measure, when dealing with masterpieces 
of the highest order, such as E Don Giovanni, or Der Freischutz, 
or Le Nozze di Figaro, in which ample material was provided 
for the realisation of her ideal. 

In such cases as these, she clothed the composer's concep- 
tion with her own individuality, and, without for a moment 
confusing their mutual identity, produced a whole so homo- 
geneous, that it was impossible to say whether its beauty lay 
in the music itself, or in her interpretation of it. 

But, where the needful material was not provided for her 

by the composer, she supplied it herself, either wholly, or in 

part, from her own boundless store. We have seen her, hi 

La Figlia del Beggimcnto, creating a whole Opera out of 

nothing — drawing forth, as from an inexhaustible treasury, 

a wealth of interest, expression, feeling, motive of action, of 

which not the slightest suggestion was furnished in the 


* From the Times, May 2G, 1848. 

216 , JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. hi. 

Here, then, were exemplified two distinct manifestations 
of her genius, diametrically opposed to each other. But 
between these were interposed many less strongly-marked 
phase, one of which was represented in Lucia di Lammer- 
moor — a work which, however great its merits, it would be 
absurd to class among the masterpieces of Art. 

Donizetti was not a profound musician. He made no 
pretensions to learning. But, he possessed strong musical 
instinct, and was, moreover, a man of high mental cultiva- 
tion, quite capable of sounding the tragic depths of the story 
so pathetically told by Sir Walter Scott, and of ascertaining 
the tone in which he could best illustrate it with his own 

He did this very effectively. Thalberg, who interpreted 
Italian airs upon the pianoforte with a depth of feeling that 
many a singer of reputation might justly have envied, after 
playing, one evening, his well-known Fantasia on Airs from 
Lucia, said to the writer, " The very first note tells of a fatal 
catastrophe." And this is perfectly true. Mdlle. Lind felt 
it too, and acted upon it, and kept that fatal tone so clearly 
in view, from first to last, that a spectator who had not even 
read the story could not have failed to understand that a 
tragic denouement was inevitable. And so in this, as in all 
her great impersonations, the logical consistency of the whole 
was maintained from the first scene to the last. 

And thus it is that artistic creations must be treated by 
all who aspire to raise their art to the highest degree of 
perfection it is capable of attaining. 

( 217 ) 



The success of Lucia di Lammermoor was so great, that it 

was given four times in succession, and seven times more 

before the close of the season. 

It was probably in allusion to her enthusiastic reception 

in the new part, Mdlle. Lind wTote, in high spirits, to 

Madame Wichmann : — 

"London, Old Brompton, 

"21 June, 1848. 

"Dearest Amalia, 

" I hope you are as well as I am. Things still go 
splendidly with me. 

" I have a charming Swedish family with me here, namely, 
my first singing-master,* and his wife and daughter ; so that 
I am quite comfortable, and in very cheerful company. They 
laugh and talk all round, even at this very moment ; so that 
I hardly know what I am writing about. 

" Your true 

" Jenny." t 

The next new Opera was Donizetti's charming Opera buffa, 
L'Elisir d'amore — a work incomparably superior to La Figlia 
del Rcggimento, both in its music and its libretto, though 
happily wanting in the ad caj^itandum element which most 
excites the great mass of the public, and therefore less 
calculated to excite a general furore. It proved, however, a 
genuine success, and afforded excellent opportunities for the 

* Herr Berg. 

t From the Wichmann collection. 

218 JENNY LIND. [bk. viir. ch. iv. 

display of the prima donnas genius, in its lighter mood, as 
well as for that of Signor Lablache, whose "Dottore 
Dulcamara " was one of his most genial hnffo parts ; and his 
never-failing humour was turned to such excellent account, 
on this occasion, as to produce the most piquant effects in the 
scenes in which he and Mdlle. Lind were associated. 
Mr. Lumley says of the performance : — 

" On Thursday, the 8th of June, Jenny Lind appeared in a 
second new part — that of ' Adina,' in L'EHsir d'amore. 
Again, the same triumph ! the same enthusiasm ! The in- 
expressible charm which pervaded almost all the impersona- 
tions of the gifted songstress, gave a new stamp to the 
character of the village coquette. Of the singing of the part, 
it would be needless to speak farther. ' Such an " Adina " 
we have never beheld,' was the judgment of the day." * 

Despite its piquant charm, L'Misir d' amove was presented 
three times only during the course of the season. Though it 
ranks among the best of Donizetti's lighter works, and its 
music is uniformly graceful and melodious, it had always 
found favour with the public rather through the attraction 
of its innocent fun, than in recognition of its musical 
qualities. It had been originally written for Lablache, and 
suited him to perfection in his capacity of humourist; but 
like La Figlia del Reggimento, it stood, in its relation to 
Mdlle. Lind's imaginative genius, in a light little higher than 
that of a moment perdu — only, how deliciously the captivating 
moment passed ! 

The next new role was of a very different character. Until 
this year Mdlle. Lind had never sung in / Puritani. She 
had seen it performed, on her first visit to Her Majesty's 
Theatre, in 1847, and had whispered to Mrs. Grote, " I think 
I can do as well as that, and perhaps a little better." The 
time had now come when the faith she then expressed in her 

* ' Reminiscences of the Opera,' p. 220. 

1848.] I PURITANI. 219 

own powers was to be put to the test — and we think we may 
venture to say that it stood it fairly well. 

She first appeared as "Elvira," in Bellini's last and 
certainly not least attractive work, on the 29 th of July ; and 
achieved in it one of her most brilliant successes. 

The role abounds in opportunities for the display of many 
liigh and varied qualities which few dramatic artists possess 
in combination. It is not enough that its exponent should 
be merely a brilliant executant, or an impassioned actress, or 
possess a voice of large compass, of unfailing sustaining power, 
of luscious sweetness, or of unlimited flexibility. She must 
possess all these qualifications, and very many more, in their 
highest perfection, and fullest measure of development. These 
conditions were not hard for Mdlle. Lind ; and she complied 
with them all. But there was another one, very much 
harder, in the background — one external to herself, and for 
which she was in no wise responsible. 

Not many years previously, / Puritani had been placed 
upon the stage at Her Majesty's Theatre, with a gorgeous 
wealth of talent, still vividly remembered both by the 
regular subscribers, and a host of less frequent visitors, and 
believed at the time to be absolutely unapproachable, 
Earely indeed is an Opera performed, as Bellini's last 
inspiration was in 1835, by such singers as Madame Grisi, 
and Signori Eubini, Tamburini and Lablache, each provided 
with a part exactly fitted for the display of his or her peculiar 
powers, and each determined to exert those powers to the 
utmost limit within the bounds of possibility. The work 
was not then dependent for its success upon the attraction of 
one or two great artists, however talented. Its cast was 
equally balanced, throughout — and, at what a level of 
excellence ! So great was the sensation it created, that, for 
years afterwards, the " Puritani season " was spoken of as 
the most brilliant on record. The difficult Aria d'entrata ; 

220 JENNY LIND. [bk. vm. ch. iv. 

the lively Polacca ; the lovely Quartette — A tc o cara — in 
which the rich beauty of Eubini's matchless voice surpassed 
itself; the fire infused into Suoni la tromha by the irre- 
pressible emulation of Tamburini and Lablache ; the beautiful 
melody sung by Eubini in the concerted Finale to the 
last act ; all these, and a hundred other scenes of equal 
interest and charm, were still fresh in the memory of every 
frequenter of the Opera-House ; and against the influence of 
their attraction, Lldlle. Lind, with Signor Lablache alone 
to support her in the first rank, had now to contend. A 
battle, fierce as that which she had fought, in Berlin, against 
the memory of Madame Schroeder-Devrient, and Annette 
Schechner, in Euryanthc, and Die Vestalin, had now to be 
fought over again — and she fought, and won it. 

Her rendering of Qui la voce held all who heard it spell- 
bound ; and that of Vien diletto — the Cahhalctta which follows 
it — would have amazed her audience, if she had not so lately 
given proof of her executive power in the equally brilliant 
Cavatina in Lucia di Lamviermoor. But in one respect 
Bellini's beautiful Scena surpassed even that remarkable 

The cadenza she composed for the opening movement of 
Qui la voce was one of the finest and most original of the 
wonderful passages oi fioritura with which it was her custom 
to ornament the Italian arie that pleased her best. Her 
talent for the composition of cadenze stood quite unrivalled. 
No other singer, whose achievements in this difficult branch 
of vocalisation can now be remembered, even so much as 
approached her, on her own peculiar ground. The number 
of cadences she elaborated was countless ; but she rarely 
committed them to writing, and most of those that remain 
on record owe their preservation to the forethought of 
listeners, who noted them down, in dread lest they should 
be for ever lost. The example in question is 'one of these ; 

1848.] I PURITANI. 221 

and the reader will find it, in the exact form in which she 
sang it on the occasion we are describing, in Xo. 2 of the 
Appendix of Music at the end of the present volume. 

Again, in the famous Polacca — Son vcrgin vczzosa — the 
lightness of her execution was little short of miraculous. 
And yet, in other scenes, she sang with an impassioned 
fervour which brought into play the richest tones of the 
fullest soprano drammatico. 

The following critique, from the leading journal of the 
period, is written with so commendable an earnestness, and 
in so just a spirit, that we think no apology necessary for 
giving it entire : — 

"To those who have seen Mdlle. Jenny Lind in the 
characters of ' Amina,' ' Lucia,' and ' Alice,' it must be 
evident that she gives to any part she undertakes a distinctive 
mark, by which it becomes her own ; that, however often a 
character may have been represented by other artists of 
eminence, she always does something with it which has not 
been done before. 

" Her ' Elvira ' in / Puritani, which was performed on 
Saturday, was another triumph in this respect. It was not 
like any other ' Elvira ' which had been seen on the stage. 

"The artlessness of the loving young girl, waiting, with 
sparkling eyes, for the arrival of her lover, was exquisitely 
rendered ; and when the innocent hilarity of ' Elvira ' was 
interrupted in its course, by the sudden attack of insanity, 
the change was admirably elaborated. It was not the tranquil 
madness of ' Lucia ' that urges to violent deeds : it was the 
insanity that preys upon the sufferer alone ; so that the 
impression conveyed was rather mournful than terrific. 
When, after the supposed infidelity of her lover, she had torn 
from her neck the bracelet he had given her, there was a 
sudden pause in the course of her gestures, that had a most 
striking effect. It denoted the approach of actual madness ; 
and the spectator could observe how all real images were 
fading away from the mind of the unhappy girl, and how 
vainly she was endeavouring to arrest them in their flight. 

" The vocal triumph was as great as the histrionic. The 
sparkling polacca, executed to perfection, and with a playful- 

222 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. iv. 

ness wliich was completely illustrative of the character, 
electrified the audience, and was encored with an enthusiasm 
which is rarely heard in any theatre. In the mad scenes, an 
expression of wildness was apparent, even in the crying, and 
added to the stronger mournfulness of the situation. At the 
conclusion of the Opera, she was called repeatedly, and 
bouquets were thrown in showers." * 

The success of / Furifani was triumphant. Though the 
season was now far advanced, it was given five times. But it 
did not displace the old favourites. Bobei^to il Diavolo, indeed, 
was given but twice ; and then in so mutilated a form — 
compressed into three acts by the total omission of the part 
of the Princess Isabella — that it deservedly failed to attract 
the public : but La Sonnamhula, Lc Nozze di Figaro, and 
La Figlia del Beggitnento, were as popular as ever, and drew 
large audiences, night after night, in alternation with the 
newer representations. Concerning these, however, there 
remains no more to be said, though, for purposes of refer- 
ence, we shall give the dates of the several performances, in 
our usual foot-note, when describing the close of the season. 

The performances extended to a much later period than 
usual ; and many ardent lovers of music remained in town 
beyond their customary time, in order that they might not 
lose an opportunity which there was too much reason to fear 
might never occur again. 

Her Majesty and Prince Albert continued to the end of 
the season, and through a hot July, which made hours spent 
in a crowded theatre a severe penance, to show their admira- 
tion of Mdlle. Lind by their attendance at the opera. They 
appear to have heard her in La Sonnamhula and the Figlia 
del Ftcggimento with ever-increasing delight — charmed with 
her acting, and more and more impressed by her amazing 
flexibility of voice, and the unusual power of the singer in 

* From the Times, July 31, 1848. ' 

1848.] / PURITANI. 223 

executing the most brilliant fioriture in an exquisitely modu- 
lated piano. 

Mr. Lumley had cause for genuine satisfaction before the 
performances came to an end. His profits, this year, were 
far greater than they had been in 1847. It is true 
that the results of "The Bunn Trial" had been more 
calamitous, by far, than those best able to form an opinion 
on the subject had predicted, or supposed even possible. 
Still, he well knew how to make the best of his im- 
proved position ; and has himself left it on record, that 
"the season of 1848 proved, in a financial point of 
view, far more remunerative than the preceding one, in 
which so much had been absorbed by the extra expenses 
entailed by Jenny's vacillation." * 

Of the last night, he says : — • 

" And now the career of the distinguished artist approached 
its close for the season of 1848. On Thursday, August the 
24th, Mdlle. Lind sang in La Sonnamhda for the last time. 
Her welcome on the previous 4th of May could scarcely 
have been surpassed in the amount of rapture and enthusiasm 
to which a great theatre could give expression; but yet it 
was almost 'o'ertopped' by the tumult of applause, the 
waving of hats and handkerchiefs, and the long, protracted, 
linaerinu, and still lingering cheer, which bade farewell to 
the great singer on this night. 

" The curtain fell at last ; and in falling, closed a season 
of unexampled interest." f 

* * Reminiscences of the Opera,' p. 226. ' 
t ibid., p. 222. 

224 JENNY LIND. [bk. vm. ch. v. 



Clairville Cottage, though Mdlle. LincI had chosen it solely 
for the sake of its retirement from the world, was none the 
less frequented by a goodly company of trusted and congenial 
friends, who delighted to sit at rest in the shade of its noble 
plane-tree, and inhale the sweet perfume of its beloved 
magnolias, and whose presence, renewed from time to time, 
effectually prevented its solitude from becoming irksome. 
We have seen that Herr Berg and his family made a 
lengthened stay there. Mrs. Grote was a constant visitor. 
So also was Thalberg, of whose talent Mdlle. Lind always 
spoke with warmest admiration, and whose manner of in- 
terpreting Schubert's songs on the pianoforte initiated her 
into the true Viennese spirit which is indispensable to their 
traditional effect. And no less welcome were Mr. and Mrs. 
Samuel Carter Hall, who occupied a house in the immediate 
vicinity of the pretty cottage, and were on terms of friendliest 
intercourse with its mistress. 

Within a few minutes' walk of this peaceful habitation 
rose a pile of buildings which the friends regarded with 
peculiar interest — the first beginnings of the then but 
half-completed " Brompton Hospital for Consumption and 
Diseases of the Chest." 

In an autobiographical work, which has attained great 

* 'A Eetrospect of a Long Life,' by Samuel Cartel' Hiill. (London, 


popularity, Mr. S. C. Hall makes mention of a concert given 
by Mdlle. Lind, at Her IMajesty's TJieatre, for this excellent 
institution. His account is so circumstantial, that it seems 
difficult, at first siglit, to doubt the accuracy of any part of 
it. It is, however, inaccurate in certain particulars, as we 
shall presently show, though the main facts are stated 
correctly enough. 

Mdlle. Lind had visited the hospital, during the height of 
the Opera season, and had taken a vivid interest in it. It 
was indeed well worthy of her attention. It owed its foun- 
dation, in the first instance, to the benevolent energy of ]\Ir. 
(afterwards Sir Philip) Eose, who, in the year 1841, formed a 
nucleus for it in a building known as the Manor House, 
overlooking the grounds of Chelsea Hospital, and now used 
as an auxiliary to the general work of the Institution. The 
present buildings Avere begun in 1844, and were still far 
from complete in 1848, when Mdlle. Lind, having heard that 
accommodation for an increased number of patients was 
urgently needed, determined to use every possible exertion 
for the addition of a new wing. 

Some interesting particulars concerning her proposal are 
given in the journals of the period, from which we select one, 
the authority of which cannot be doubted : — 

" The concert that will be given this day at Her Majesty's 
Theatre for the benefit of the Hospital for Consumption at 
Brompton, is a striking instance of the benevolence and 
generosity of ]\Idlle. Lind. Not only does she give her own 
services, but she has made arrangements with Mr. Lumley, 
providing the society gratuitously with everything required '; 
so that no expense will be incurred, while it is expected that 
the funds will be materially increased. 

"TJie benefit that is to be done to the society by this 
concert, is of a special kind— namely, the erection of an 
eastern wing to the hospital, in which an increase of room 
for the admission of patients is most desirable. 

"The 'Hospital for Consumption and Diseases of the 


226 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. v. 

Chest ' has peculiar claims to public support. The incurable 
nature of the consumptive patient's complaint, and the fact 
that he must long occupy a bed which might be more profitably 
devoted to sufferers from other maladies, shut him out from 
all hospitals whatever, before the establishment of this one. 
The confirmed consumptive patient literally had no home, 
before the foundation, in 1841, of a hospital devoted exclusively 
to sufferers of this class. In aiding this establishment, 
therefore, the benevolent are contributing towards a purpose 
that cannot be accomplished by any other charity whatever. 
They are not merely providing medical assistance in the case 
of a particular disease, but they are providing a permanent 
domicile to a whole class of houseless invalids. 

'' The report of the charity spoke favourably of its progress ; 
but showed that much more remained to be done. In 1847, 
there were already sixty beds for patients, which were con- 
stantly occupied ; and it was expected that forty more, which 
the portion of the building then completed was capable of 
accommodating, would soon be made available. It is statistically 
shown that, in this metropolis, 11,000 persons are constantly 
wasting away, from the attacks of pulmonary disease ; and that 
a large portion of these are working men, totally without the 
means of providing for themselves, and excluded, as we have 
already said, from the general hospitals. 

" It is hoped that the concert will be one of those instances 
of the amusement of the rich contributing to the relief of the 
poor, that have lately been happily frequent, in the metro- 
polis. The conduct of Mdlle. Lind, who, according to the 
prospectus of the concert, ' generously expressed her desire ' 
to augment the funds of this excellent charity, is worthy of 
all praise." * 

In one point only, the contributor of this interesting article 
to the Times fails to do full justice to a gentleman who behaved, 
on this occasion, with great and liberal forbearance. It will 
be remembered that, by her contract with Mr. Lumley, 
Mdlle. Lind was forbidden to sing at any public concert. 
She could not, therefore, have made her contemplated gift to 
the Brompton Hospital without Mr. Lumley's permission ; and 

* From the Times, July 31, 1848. ' 


he not only gave tliis, but added to it the loan of the " Great 
Concert Eoom at Her Majesty's Theatre," for the morning 
indicated in the advertisements. 

The concert was duly announced to take place on Monday, 
the 31st of July, 1848. The price of tickets for the reserved 
seats was fixed at two guineas each, that for unreserved 
places, at one guinea. Nine hundred tickets — mostly reserved 
— were sold at these high prices, and, the room, (notwith- 
standing its imposing title), being a comparatively small one, 
many gentlemen were compelled to stand throughout the 
entire performance. Mdlle. Lind herself was strongly 
opposed, on principle, to " raised prices," against which we 
have already seen her protesting at Vienna; but, on this 
occasion, when funds were so urgently needed for a sacred 
purpose, she suffered herself to be overruled by the argu- 
ments of Mr. S. C. Hall. 

She was assisted in the business portion of her work, by 
the Honorary Secretary — Mr. Philip Eose — and other officers 
■of the charity ; and, at the concert, by Mdlle. Cruvelli, Signori 
Lablache, Belletti, and Coletti, MM. Eemusat and King 
(Flautists), and Mr. Cooper (Violinist). ]\Ir. Otto Gold- 
schmidt also played, at her request, two solos on the 

The programme, which we transcribe from IMdlle. Lind's 
■own copy, printed on white satin, and still in excellent 
preservation, comprised the following pieces of music : — 

* Mr. S. C. Hall, writing thirty-five years after tlie event, and having 
■evidently forgotten its details, gives a very inaccurate account of the 
■circumstances, which we have here described on the highest possible 
authority. Mr. Goldschmidt had been introduced to Mdlle. Lind, and she 
very much wished to give him the opportunity of appearing at her concert. 
But, she had not heard him play ; and did not think it wise to render herself 
•responsible for the debut of a young artist, until she had made herself ac- 
quainted with the style of his performance. She therefore invited him 
to play to her at Clairville ; and it was after having heard him there, 
^that she requested his assistance at the concert. 

Q 2 






This accomplished Lady, having generously expressed her desire to give a 


With a view to augment the Funds for Building tlie Eastern Wing of the 



The Public are respectfully informed that such Concert will 

take place at the 


On MONDAY, the 31st instant. 



" Per piacere alia Signora " {Turca) 
Mdlle. LiND and Siguur Lablache. 

Aria " La mia letizia " (Lomhardi) 

Signor (tAKDONI. 
llEMixist'ENCEs Di Lucia Mr. Otto Goldschjiidt . 
Aria .... " Non paventar " (Flauto Maqico) 

Mdlle. LiND. 

Sc'ENA " Deh ti ferma " {Semiramide) 

Signor Belletti. 

Tiuo (soprano and two flutes) Camp of Silesia 

Mdlle. LixD, Mons. Eemusat, and Mr. King. 


Concerto (violin) . . . Mr. H. C. Cooper .... 
Roman z A Mdlle. Cruvelli .... 

Aria " Nuova ferita " (Seggente) . 

Signor Coletti. 
Terzetto . . "Gio\inetto Cavalier" (Croc/o^o) . 

Mdlle. LiND, Mdlle. Vera, and Mdlle. Ckt:velli. 
Two " Lieder ohne Worte " Mr. Otto Goldschmidt . 
Cavatina .... " Casta Diva " (Norma) 

Mdlle. LiND. 




. Bossijti. 


De Beriot. 

. Nicola i. 



.. Bellini. 

Conductor . Mr. BALFE. 

Doors will open at One, and the Concert commence at Two o'clock. 


Five days afterwards, the following critique upon the per- 
formance appeared in The Illustrated London Neius : — 

" A more gratifying scene than that presented on Monday, 
in the Great Concert Room of Her Majesty's Theatre, has 
seldom been witnessed. 

" The most exalted Art was exercised in the cause of 
charity. When the fact was ascertained, that Jenny Lind 
had so nobly undertaken to give a Concert in aid of the funds 
of the ' Hospital for Consumption ' in Brompton, we confess 
we felt no surprise at the offer — it was but an added instance 
to many similar actions that have signalised her artistic 

" Every seat in the area, the boxes, and the orchestra, was 
filled by rank, fashion, and talent. 

" The programme was admirable. We had the grand Aria 
from the Flauto Magico of Mozart — Noii 'pavcntar, with its 
wonderful altitudes and intricate passages ; and the ornate 
Cavatina of Bellini — Casta diva ; the Duetto from the Turco 
in Italia of Eossini — Per inaccre alia Signora — with 
Lablache ; and the famous Terzetto from the Crociato in 
Egitto of Lleyerbeer, Giovinetto Cavalier. And last, most 
marvellous, as exhibiting the extraordinary power, bril- 
liancy, finish, facility, and musicianship of Jenny Lind, 
the Trio for Soprano and two Flutes from Meyerbeer's 
Camp of Silesia. IMozart's Aria, the Trio, and the Cavatina, 
were re-demanded. The chief novelty was the Trio from 
the Camp of Silesia. 

" Jenny Lind acted as musical directress, giving the tenqn 
and indicating the nuanees, very gracefully and quaintly. 
MM. Kemusat and King were the Flautists, and performed 
admirably. Mdlle. Cruvelli sang a Romanza of Nicolai. 
Signor Coletti delivered an Aria from Mercadanti's Beggente 
— Nuova fcrita; and Signer Belletti gave the Scena from 
La Somiariibula — Deli I tiferma. 

" The instrumental portion consisted of Liszt's Fantasia 
from Lucia, and two of Mendelssohn's Liedcr ohne Wortc, 
played by Mr. Otto Goldschmidt ; and a Violin Concerto of 
De Beriot, played by ]\Ir. Cooper." * 

A few days after the performance, Mdlle. Lind paid a visit 
* From the Illustrated London Neivs, August o, 1848. 

230 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. v, 

to the Hospital, giving each of the wards a careful inspection, 
of which we find the following record : — 

"Yesterday, ]\Idlle. Lind visited the several wards and 
offices of the Brompton ' Hospital for Consumption.' She 
was accompanied by Mrs. S. C. Hall, Mr. Philip Eose (the 
Hon. Sec), Dr. Forbes, and other gentlemen connected with 
the charity. The committee of management met in the 
evening, and, after the usual business had been transacted, 
it was stated that the benefit given by Mdlle. Lind, at Her 
Majesty's Theatre, on Monday last, afforded a probability of 
nearly £1,800."* 

We can imagine the satisfaction of the generous donor, 
when, in passing through the wards, between the rows of 
beds in which so many poor pale sufferers lay stretched on 
either side, she thought of the augmented number now 
rendered possible through her exertions. The success of her 
scheme extended far beyond the sum it actually placed at 
the disposal of the committee, for it gave a notable impulse 
to the collection of funds for the work in hand. The Eastern 
Wing was no longer thought of as a remote possibility. 
The committee were justified, now, in making the necessary 
arrangements for its rapid completion ; and when it was- 
opened, and made ready for the reception of patients, in 
1855, its first floor, containing ten wards for the accommo- 
dation of female sufferers, was called "The Jenny Lind 
Gallery," as the corresponding portion of the Western Wing 
had been previously named "The Victoria Gallery" in 
token of gratitude to Her Majesty, the Patroness of the 
charity ; and, at the same time, one of the ten new wards 
within the "Jenny Lind Gallery" was named after Mrs. 
S. C. Hall. 

In spite of her rooted antipathy to the presentation of 
testimonials, in recognition of her works of charity, ]\Idlle. 
Lind had not the heart to refuse that which was offered ta 
* From the Times, August 5, 1818. 


lier in the name of the recipients of her bounty at Brompton, 
in the form of a beautiful silver salver, twenty inches broad, 
bearing in its centre an engraving of the unfinished building, 
with the following delicately-worded inscription : — 

















On the seventh anniversary of the opening of the Hospital, 
celebrated in 1849, the late Lord Beaconsfield — then, the 
Eight Hon. B, Disraeli — paid perhaps the aptest and most 
beautiful tribute on record to the generous action of Mdlle. 
Lind in relation to the charity, in a speech delivered in 
presence of the governors, and a crowded audience. As, 
though printed soon after Madame Gold Schmidt's death 
in a well-known magazine, this eloquent panegyric does not 

* This Toeautiful salver is now inherited by Madame Goldschniidt's 
second son. 

232 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. v. 

appear to have been quoted in full in contemporary notices, 
we venture to cite a somewhat lengthy extract : — 

" The generosity of Mdlle. Lind to the Hospital," said the 
great Statesman, " can only be characterised as marvellous. 
It comes upon us, as it were, in a heavenly burst of music 
that charms every sense, and touches every heart — a sweet 
carol of charity that fills the popular ear with bewilderment, 
sympathy, and rapture. 

" I look upon the conduct of this lady as one of the most 
remarkable features of the age we live in. I know nothing 
in classic story, or in those feudal epochs when we are taught 
that the individual was more influential, when character was 
more forcible — I know nothing to be compared with the 
career of this admirable woman. Why, gentlemen, it almost 
reaches the high ideal of human nature when we portray to 
ourselves a youthful maiden, innocent and benignant, in the 
possession of an unparalleled and omnipotent charm, alter- 
nately entrancing the heart of nations, and then kneeling at 
the tomb of suffering, of calamity, and of care. 

" To me there is something most beautiful in this life of 
music and charity — a life passed amid divine sounds and still 
diviner deeds. I honour the power of the artist. We hear 
of the Kings and Csesars of the world acknowledging the 
magic of her spell, bestowing on her the jewels and offering 
her the gorgeous tapestries of antique courts. But how 
great is the artist who can say, 'Any morning, in the 
saloon of a theatre, I can assemble the world together, 
and can support an institution, or reward an individual, ten 
thousand times more than any King or Emperor.' I honour 
the purity of the artist. I think there is something not 
only unprecedented but transcendental in one living in 
the affluence of fame, never for a moment the victim of the 
inebriation of vanity, but when the riches of the world 
are poured at her feet, and the plaudits of millions ring in 
her ears, turning aside directly to feel the common sympathies 
of our common humanity, and of all her treasure instantly 
appropriating, as it were, her tithes to human nature. 

" And, gentlemen, I, for one, honour Jenny Lind above 
all things, because she has shown that she comprehends 
her position, and that a great artist, sustained by virtue, 
upheld by self-respect, and full of the magnificence of her 


mission, ranks in the highest class of human beings and 
human benefactors," 

And thus, in the midst of her second London season, was 
inau2;urated the first of that long line of noble works which 
have surrounded the name of Jenny Lind with a halo 
more bright than even that enkindled by the fire of her 

234 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. vi. 



The London season was now at the zenith of its brilliancy^, 

but its successes did not make Mdlle. Lind forget her friends 

in Germany. In the midst of the general excitement, she 

wrote to Fran von Kaulbach : — 

" London, July 10, 1848. 

"Deaeest Fkiend, 

" My best and most heartfelt thanks for your letter, and 
the remembrance you bore me. 

" I have thought of you all so often, so often ! And the 
happy time in your house has the same poetry for me, the same 
beautiful colouring that it had when I was there. I have 
often wished to write to you ; but I am so horribly lazy 
about writing— I do not like it at all. For, what is ever 
so long a letter compared with a look, or a friendly 
word ! "Yet, truly, it is always nice to receive letters from 
one's friends. 

"I am so grieved for our good Haiiser. Give him my 
kindest regards. What did he say about that dreadful account- 
of Mendelssohn's death ? Oh ! my dear Frau Kaulbach,_that 
was my first, my greatest loss, and it made the whole winter 
quite different to me. It seems to me as if the bond of union 
between me and Germany were quite destroyed. But, God 
be praised that he lives no longer, in such times as these ! It 
is almost better to have departed. 

" I hope Herr Kaulbach will soon be returning to you. 
"What is going on at the dear home ? What are the doves 
doing ? How are the roses getting on ? Do the great black- 
birds still devour the little fruits ""in front of the house ? Is 
the good aunt still with you ? If so, greet her a thousand 
times, and her lovely children. Are they thriving ? I should 
hardly know Hermann again. 


" It was very hard indeed for me to take upon myself, for 
tins year also, the frightful responsibility of supporting the 
Opera, here. But it was my duty to do so ; for it rested 
with me, whether Lumley should be ruined, and the whole 
theatre fall to the ground, or not ; and the public rewards me 
in so many ways, and shows me so much attention, that I 
have nothing to regret. 

*' Besides this, I have a Swedish family staying with me 
— my first singing-master, Herr Berg, with his wife and 
daughter — known to me from my childhood ; and a cousin of 
this lady is with me, in place of Louise — an excellent and 
honest person* — so that I feel myself quite at home. 

"I go, this year also, to the (English) provinces ; but then 
I shall have done, and shall leave the grande carrierc behind 
me, and shall only work in Sweden for my pleasure — that is, 
for my School. 

" There you have pretty nearly all that I shall undertake. 
If anything very important should happen, I will be sure to 
tell you ; but, till then, believe nothing — and, before all 
things, do not believe that I have a bad heart. I hope I have 
grown better ; for, since I saw you, I have passed through 
many things, and have not been without temptations. AVhat 
reason have I to be vain now that I had not before ? 

" But you must be tired out by this time, so I will come to 
an end. You may rest assured that no single word here 
Avritten expresses so much as I wish, and that all through my 
life I shall remain 

" Your sincerelv grateful friend. 

J o 

"Jexny LlND."t 

As the season drew near its close, she wrote to her guardian, 
Judge Muntlie : — 

" Clairville, July 27, 1848. 

" The people come to the Opera in such crowds, that, this 
year also, I am happy to be of use." 

And again, a noteworthy letter, in which she gave the 
first hint in writing of a project no less weighty in its bearing. 

* Frukon Josc-pliine Ahmansson. 

t From the collection of Frau von Kaulbacli, 

236 JENNY LTND. [bk, vm. ch. vi. 

Tipon Art than lier scheme for the completion of the Brompton 
Hospital was in its relation to Charity : — 

» Clairville Cottage, Old Brompton, Aug. 14, 184:8. 

" I am going to sing a few times more this year, and there- 
fore I shall not have done with London before the 24th inst. 

" We go to the provinces on the 4th of September, and 
begin by a concert in Birmingham on the 5th. On my 
return to London I intend to give, in conjunction with 
many others, a grand concert for the foundation of a School 
of Music in memory of Mendelssohn, the object of wliich 
will be to receive pupils of all nations and promote their 
musical training ; and we have chosen his last work, Elijah, 
to illustrate it. If this enterprise proves successful I shall 
be very glad and happpy. If I do not come home this 
autumn, I intend to work in Germany, for this purpose, part 
of next winter." * 

Truly, there were schemes enough in contemplation, and 
but little unoccupied time at command for the elaboration 
of their details. 

Her Majesty's Theatre closed, for the season of 1848, on 
the 26th of August, with a concert for the benefit of the 
Chorus ; and a few days afterwards, Mdlle. Lind started 
in company with Mons. Eoger, the great French tenor 
,Sio-nor Belletti, Signer Frederic Lablache, and some other 
artists of less celebrity, on a provincial tour of a more 
decidedly dramatic character than that which she had under- 
taken in 1847. 

And the inhabitants of the provinces were no less enthusi- 
astic in the welcome they prepared for the popular favourite 
than those of London itself. 

" The town could find no tongue," says Mr. Lumley, " but 
for one object— Jenny Lind — Jenny Lind, to whom the 
nobility, and gentry, and even the clergy of England, offered 
their respectful homage, and opened their country houses ; 

* From the collect iuu preserved b}- Judge Munthe's family. 


Jenny Lind, the practical and living heroine of domestic 
drama, the prolific dispenser of world-wide charities, of whose 
private life every detail was caught up and diffused far and 
wide, with as much eagerness as was every trait connected 
with her brilliant public career.' 

" * 

The tournec — as it was called — had been organised in 
advance, by Mr. Luniley, as part of the engagement for the 
season; and the boldness and sagacity of his calculations 
may be inferred from the fact that, though Mdlle. Lind's 
honorarium was fixed at £10,000, he appears to have been 
by no means dissatisfied with his own share of the profits.. 
Indeed, so triumphant was the success of the venture, that 
to use his own words : " Her excursion, prolonged into the 
latter months of the year, wore the appearance of a queenly 

She left London on the 4th of September, on which day 
she wrote to her friend, Madame Wichmann : — 

" Clairville, September 4, 1848. 

" Beloved Am alia, 

" I was not a little astonished, when I received your 
last letter from Interlaken. I was as happy as a Queen, to- 
know that you are now leaving Berlin. My heart bounds 
with joy, when I think of meeting you in Italy, or else- 
where. Perhaps our long-cherished idea may be realised, 
after all. 

" I have many plans in my head, and, in case rest should 
again be denied me, I may still have to go on working for a 
longer time. 

" To-day, I begin by going to the English provinces, for 
two, or perhaps three months. After that begins a matter 
about which I will tell you. 

" I wish, in conjunction with one of Mendelssohn's most 
intimate friends, to contribute something towards a Music 
School in his memory ; and, for tliis purpose, I propose, in 
the month of November, to give a grand concert in London. 

" It is quiet in Berlin now ; and I might give concerts 

* ' Reminiscences of the Opera,' p. 226. 

238 JENNY LIND, [bk. viii. ch. vi. 

there also, and so, farther and farther — how far, I cannot say. 
But I hope, in any case, to have finished all by the new 
year at the latest. 

"Now, be sweet, sot,a dlshade, and write to me soon, to 
tell me what you are doing, and where you are going ; and 
«end your letter here to London — Clairville Cottage, Old 
Brompton— and then I shall be able to tell you somethmg 

for certain. 

" God guard you ! 

" Yours, 

" Jenny." * 

The tour began with a concert at Birmingham, on the 
5th of September, followed by one at Liverpool, on the 7th, 
and performances of Lucia and La Sonnamhula, at Man- 
chester, on the 9th and 11th. 

An English " provincial tour " is, of necessity, devoid of 
almost every trace of artistic excitement, or even of interest. 
Its programmes are built up of the pieces which have 
proved most successful and most welcome to the public, 
during the preceding London season. The introduction of 
novelties, however beautiful, would be in the highest degree 
impolitic ; for the country audience desires, before all things^ 
to hear, for itself, the works of which it has read such glowing 
accounts in the London newspapers. It is with these alone 
that the manager supplies it; and we have no need to 
criticise such pieces here, since they have already been 
fully described in earlier chapters, though for purposes of 
reference, we have thought it necessary to give the dates of 
the several performances, in our customary footnote at the 
end of the section in which their history is recorded. 

Suface it, then, to say that Mdlle. Lind sang in La Son- 
nanibula, Lucia cli Lammermoor, L Furitani, and . La Figlia 
del Bcgcjimcnto, at Manchester, Hull, Newcastle, Edinburgh, 

* From the Wichmann collection. 


Glasgow, Dublin, (where she remained from the 10th to the 
24th of October, and sang six times on the stage), and 
Brighton ;* that she gave concerts, with scarcely less success, 
in almost every place of any great importance in England ; 
and that she continued her work, without interruption, until 
the 4th of December, on which day she gave a concert, at 
Leeds, for the Orchestra which accompanied her, realising 
£640 for division among its members. 

Mrs. Orote has left us, in her Xote-book, the following 
graphic account of the last-named entertainment : — 

" Her progress in the provinces was extraordinary ; for the 

intense interest and admiration she excited in the various 

cities she visited ; and the passionate eagerness to get even 

• a glimpse of her, as evinced by the middle and lower classes, 

were truly marvellous. 

" Early in December I was with her at Oxford, where she 
gave a morning concert in the ' Theatre ' or Senate House. 
Eighteen hundred persons were present, and the enthusiasm 
of the students was most diverting. 

" Next we posted across to Rugby, in order to proceed to 
Leeds, where Jenny gave a concert for the profit of her own 
little orchestra, and £640 was realised, each man getting 
about £36, — a pretty ' wind-up ' to a most agreeable and 
lucrative three months' tournec. 

"After the concert, and about midnight, Jenny gave a 
Soiree to the band, and we kept it up till 3 a.m., with dancing 
and a famous good supper, after which Jenny made a speech, 
proposing Balfe's health ; and, after that, another to her band, 

* The entry in Mdlle. Lind's engagement-book of the performance of 
La Ficjlia del Begginiento at Brighton, on the 3rd of November, is 
followed by eight notes of exclamation — " Brighton. Regimentets 
Dotter !!!!!!!! " — and a thick black line is drawn across the page, 
beneath the entry. 

May we not assume, from this, that she was hoping that the perform- 
ance at Brighton would be her last upon the Stage? As a matter of fact, 
it really would have been the last, but for the sis supplementary perform- 
ances to be noticed hereafter. An exjjression in Mrs. Stanley's letter of 
December 20th, 18i9, given at jiage 258, seems strongly to confirm this 

240 JENNY LIND. [bk. viir. ch. vi, 

drinking all their ' healths,' and bidding them farewell and 

" Her address was given with feeling and taste, and the 
effect it had upon her guests was evidently profound. I was 
very near crying during the response, which was her health, 
with harmonious chords and vivas from all lips. Balfe made 
her a speech, thanking her in the name of the tro7qjc, and 
paid her some lofty, but heartfelt compliments, in neat and 
appropriate phraseology. The evening was very delightful 
altogether, and we all parted with regret, returning to London 
on the morrow with Mr. Lumley." 

This generous and graceful act accomplished, Mdlle. Lind 
returned for ten days, to London, for the purpose of carrying 
out the great enterprise which, during the last few months, 
had occupied so much of her attention, and which she now 
felt sure of bringing to a successful issue. 

( 241 ) 



The noble idea of commemorating Mendelssohn's genius, by 
the foundation of a Music-School in his name, presented 
itself to some of his most intimate friends, not very many 
months after his early death. 

The exact details of its origin have not transpired. In all 
probability, it first assumed consistency in the form of an 
unpremeditated remark, made during the course of some 
desultory conversation ; but, whether by Mdlle. Lind or Herr 
Klingemann * in London, or in Leipzig by Herr Ferdinand 
David or Herr Schleinitz, has never been clearly ascertained. 
It is certain, however, that the thought of using Elijali as 
the medium for the collection of so large a sum of money as 
was necessary for the realisation of the project originated 
with Mdlle. Lind; and, tliis idea once broached, the four 
friends we have named, together with Sir George Smart, 
Mr. (afterwards Sir Julius) Benedict, Dr. Hullah, Mr. Buxton 
(the then proprietor of the publishing firm of Ewer & Co.), 
and some other zealous fellow-workers, warmly espoused the 
cause, and gave themselves no rest until they had brought it 
to a successful issue. 

We have seen that Mdlle. Lind first mentioned it in 
writing, in a letter addressed to Judge Munthe, on the 
14th of August, 1848 ; and again, in another written to 
Madame Wichmann, on the 4th of September — i.e., exactly 

* The friend to whom Mendelssohn was indebted for the poetry of some 
of his most beautiful songs. 

VOL. n. E 

242 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. vii. 

ten months after Mendelssohn's death. And now, at last, 
after four months of careful deliberation, the time had 
arrived for putting the great design into execution. 

Never, in the whole history of Art, had departed greatness 
been honoured by a purer or more worthy monument than 
that now in active and loving preparation. Forty years ago 
the world was less accustomed to such memorials than it is 
now. We had no "Wellington College, no Keble College, 
none of those noble institutions, destined, not only to per- 
petuate the memory of the great ones in whose name they 
were inaugurated, but to encourage and to teach young 
aspirants to follow in their steps. The finest statue in the 
world would have honoured Mendelssohn less worthily 
than a school in which the principles by which he was 
guided could be taught to others who needed their guidance, 
and thus kept in practical remembrance for ever ; handed 
down, from master to pupil, and preserved, from generation 
to generation, as a precious heirloom of Art. 

The idea was a noble one indeed, well worthy of being 
carried out to its fullest extent, had this proved to have been 
possible. And what more worthy means could have been 
devised for raising the funds needed for putting it into 
execution, than the scheme proposed by Mdlle. Lind — the 
presentation to the public of his last and greatest Oratorio, 
in the most perfect form that the united talent of the most 
accomplished singers and instrumentalists in England could 
achieve ? 

This was her bold idea; and, in furtherance of it, she 
invited her artist friends to assist her in a grand performance 
of Elijah, at Exeter Hall, on Friday, the 15th of December. 

Mendelssohn had composed the greater part of the Oratorio, 
at a period during which he was in constant correspondence 
with his friend, and missing no opportunity of hearing her 
sing. He had studied her voice with microscopic care, and 




knew the timhre of every note in it as well as if it had been 
his own. As is nearly always the case with an exceptionally 
beautiful voice, every note had an individuality of inflection, 
which, to an exceptionally cultivated ear, had something 
definite to say. We do not mean that one note differed from 
another in quality of tone. But, notT\dthstanding the perfect 
equalisation of the several registers, every note had a marked 
idiosyncrasy which never failed in its appeal to an ear 
trained with the delicacy to which every true musician 
aspires. For Mendelssohn, the upper FJf possessed an 
irresistible charm. He often spoke with admiration of the 
wonderful Fis ; and, in Bear ye, Israel, composed in 1846, 
soon after the Lower Eliine Festival at Aix-la-Chapelle, he 
used it with strikincj effect as the initial note of the first 
phrase, and in many other passages in which it rings like a 
trumpet-call throughout the Air : — 













Hear ye, Is - ra - el ! Hear what the Lord speaketh ! 
Ed - re. Is - ra- el ! Ho - re des Herm iitiiame I 

Pill ad agio. 








what the Lord speak 
re des Herm btim 

me I 

Allegro maestoso 










am He that com - fort - eth. 
hin eu - er Tr'6 - - ster. 



- '' < r r 





For I, thy Go^i 
Ic/i bin dein Ootf, 

will strengthen thee. 
. ich stdr - he dich ! 

R 2 

244 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. vii. 

Scarcely less effective is its introduction into the second 
bar of the unaccompanied Trio — Lift tJiine eyes unto the 
mountains — Hehe deine Augen auf zu den Bergen — and other 
notes and registers are employed, in like manner, in other 
parts of the Oratorio, with a knowledge of the effect they 
were certain to produce, when sung by Mdlle. Lind, no less 
intimate than that displayed by the composer in the piano- 
forte concertos destined to be played by his own expressive 

When, therefore, Mdlle. Lind chose this as the most fitting 
work for her memorial purpose, she did so, not only 
because she believed it to be the greatest work her friend 
had produced, but because she knew that he would himself 
have selected it as the one best fitted for the display of her 
own peculiar powers, since he had composed the soprano 
part expressly for her.* 

But, Elijah does not depend for its perfect effect upon the 
consummate rendering of a single part. It must be treated 
as a whole. And, penetrated with the certainty of tliis, 
Mdlle. Lind not only prepared for the performance of her 
own part, but studied every bar of the Oratorio with equal 

* It was once currently reported tliat Mendelssohn had made arrange- 
ments for a performance of Elijah at Vienna, with Mdlle. Lind as the 
principal vocalist ; but the rumour was entirely groundless. Preparations 
had indeed been made for a performance of the Oratorio, at Vienna, in the 
winter of 1847, and Mendelssohn was only prevented from conducting it 
in person by his untimely death, in consequence of which it was for a time 
postponed, and ultimately given in the form of a tribute to his memory : 
but Mdlle. Lind's engagements elsewhere would have rendered it impos- 
sible for her to have taken part in it, under any circumstances ; and no 
mention of her name, in connection with the proposed cast, is to be found 
among Mendelssohn's correspondence, though the names of all the other 
artists concerned in it are distinctly specified. Unfortunately, the 
erroneous statement has been openly promulgated in Herr Sebastian 
Hensel's Familie Mendelssohn, in Sir George Grove's Dictionary of 
Music and Musicians, in Mr. J. T. Bunce's History of the Birmingham 
General Hospital, and possibly elsewhere. 

1848.] " ELIJAH." 245 

care and intelligence ; and, at the numerous rehearsals — 
every one of which she punctually attended — infused such 
spirit into the artists who assisted her, and directed the 
preliminary performances with so intimate a knowledge of 
the composer's own intentions, that, though she had never 
before sung in the Oratorio, the effect with which it was 
presented was declared to have been absolutely faultless. 

The result of her labours may be gathered from the 
following critique which appeared in the ' Times,' on the day 
after the celebration : — 

" The grand performance of the Oratorio of Elijah, in aid 
of the ' Mendelssohn Foundation for Free Scholarships in the 
Leipzig Musical Conservatory,' took place last night. 

" Exeter Hall was filled, in every part, by one of the most 
brilliant and fashionable audiences ever assembled in a public 
edifice. His Eoyal Highness the Duke of Cambridge, with 
the Duchess and Princess of Cambridge, the Prince and 
Princesses of Hohenlohe, the Hanoverian Minister, Count 
Kielmansegge, and suite, occupied the northern gallery, near 
the orchestra. The Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops 
of London and Norwich, the Prussian Ambassador, etc., were 
in the reserved seats in the area. 

" We have already stated that Mdlle. Lind had liberally 
accorded her gratuitous services for this occasion ; and we 
are now enabled to add that she doubled the value of her 
assistance, and the obligation of those interested in the 
Mendelssohn Foundation, by attending every one of the 
rehearsals, private and public, arri\dng at the beginning, 
and remaining until the end, in order to ensure, as far 
as she was concerned, a perfect execution of Mendelssohn's 
immortal work, which she has studied expressly for the 

" The performance last night was complete and splendid. 
The vocal and instrumental arrangements, under the able 
and zealous direction of Mr. Benedict, were on a very grand 
scale. The Sacred Harmonic Society, which could not but 
sympathise with the object of the committee, since Mendels- 
sohn was a brother member, besides the use of its spacious 
platform, organ, and new orchestral arrangements, accorded 
the flower of its choral body, to which Mr. Benedict added 

246 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. vii. 

upwards of a hundred from Mr. Hullah's upper classes, the 
strength of the Eoyal Academy voices, emissaries from the 
Professional Choral and other societies, and a band of 
nearly a hundred and twenty instrumental performers of 

" Altogether, perhaps, an orchestra of such united magni- 
tude and efficiency was never before heard in this country ; 
which, added to the fact of its being Mdlle. Lind's first appear- 
ance in Exeter Hall, and her first public essay in England in 
the Oratorio School of Music, rendered the event one of 
unusual interest and excitement. 

" The vocal soloists, besides Mdlle. Lind, were, the Misses 
Anne and Martha Williams,* Miss Duval,t Messrs. Lockey,t 
Benson, Machin, Smythson, and Alfred Novello. 

" The first piece in which Mdlle. Lind had to sing was 
the Double Quartette — For He shall give His Angels charge 
over TJiee — in which she was assisted by the principal singers 
above named. The transparent clearness of this beautiful 
composition was most successfully preserved ; and it was at 
once evident, from the manner in which she delivered the 
melody, that Mdlle. lind's feeling of Sacred Music was the 
right one, and that she would not use her great vocal facility 
to any other purpose than to give the text in its integrity. 
This was observable throughout her whole performance. The 
purity of her style almost reached severity. Not one note 
was altered ; not one ornament added, not one point intruded, 
from first to last. There was Mendelssohn's music, as 
Mendelssohn wrote it, and sung as Mendelssohn would have 
delighted to hear it, with a justness of intonation that never 
for an instant wavered. 

"Mdlle. Lind's pronunciation of the English language is 
remarkably good ;§ and her articulation so clear that scarcely 
a word is lost. This was eminently remarkable in the 
Eecitative, Air, and Duet of the widow and Elijah, which she 

* Afterwards, Mrs. Lockey. 

t Afterwards, Mrs. Noble. 

% The original exponent of the Tenor part at Birmingham, in 1847. 

§ Though we have said, in previous chapters, that Mdlle. Lind's English 
was " slowly acquired," and that it " would have sounded strangely foreign 
in spoken dialogue," these remarks are not intended to apply to the 
English she sang. In Euglish singincj her pronunciation was perfect, even 
at a very early period of her residence in this country. (See Vol. I., 
pp. 31 and 295.) 

1848.] " ELIJAH." 247 

declaimed with an intensity of expression wliicli gave poignant 
reality to the anguish of the mother weeping for her son. 
The passage on the words, / go mourning all the day lo7ig ; I 
lie down and weep at night, must have touched any heart 
open to the impressions derivable from music. 

" But, it was in the fine Air in B minor, Hear tic, Israel, 
which opens the second part, that Mademoiselle Lind first 
had occasion to put forth her entire strength. So grandly 
did she deliver the Allegro — Thus saith the Lord; Be not 
afraid — that the decorum which the audience had with 
difficulty observed during the first part was unanimously 
thrown aside, and applause burst from every part of the hall. 
The ice once broken, enthusiasm became the order of the day. 
The unaccompanied Trio — Lift thine eyes unto the mountains 
— and the Quartette and Chorus in C — Holy, holy, holy, is 
God the Lord — in the former of which Mademoiselle Lind was 
assisted by Miss Duval and Miss M. Williams, and 
in the latter, by the Misses A. and M. Williams, and Miss 
Duval, were both encored. The Quartette, one of the 
simplest and sublimest pieces in Elijah, created quite a 
furore; and this was not to be wondered at, since 
Mademoiselle Lind sang the first soprano part in a style such 
as we have rarely heard equalled — never surpassed. The 
clear tones of her voice resounded through all the strength 
of the magnificent instrumentation with which Mendelssohn 
has loaded the score of this Quartette. The high E and G- 
with which the opening phrase begins were attacked with 
wonderful firmness, and sustained with full and brilliant 
quality. The shake upon D Jf that finishes the second phrase 
was deliciously even and in tune. In short, the whole was 
as near perfection as is compatible with human fallibility, 
and may be pronounced Mademoiselle Lind's most successful 
effort dming the evening. 

" The two beautiful quartettes : Cast thy burthen upon the 
Lord, in the first, and come, every one that thirstcth, in the 
second part — and several Eecitatives, had also the advantage 
of Mdlle. Lind's execution. 

"Altogether, the performance was worthy of the cause 
for which it was instituted, and a considerable sum will be 
devoted, by its means, to the advancement of the Mendels- 
sohn Foundation at Leipzig." * 

The Times, Dec. 16, 1848. 

248 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. vil 

ISTo one who was present on that memorable evening, will 
think the above critique in the slightest degree exaggerated. 
When the Oratorio was first produced at Birmingham, the 
performance had been, under the circumstances, a truly 
phenomenal one. Mendelssohn himself had described 
it as the best "first performance" that he had achieved 
for any of his great works. But it was a "first per- 
formance," and could not fairly be judged in any other 
light; whereas, on this occasion, the orchestra, the chorus, 
and the assistant soloists— who all, in conjunction with 
Mdlle. Lind, gave their valuable assistance gratuitously — 
were already familiar with the work, many of them having 
actually taken part in it, under the Mton of the composer 
himself. Apart, therefore, from the altogether unapproach- 
able interpretation of the soprano part, the Oratorio was 
presented under the most favourable circumstances that, 
since the fatal Fourth of November in the previous year, 
could possibly have been desired. With the sole exception 
of the original interpreter of the part of Mijah — Herr 
Staudigl — who was not then in England, no artist was 
missing whose voice could have lent additional interest to 
it. And it will remain for ever memorable, in its more 
practical though certainly not less honourable aspect, as the 
first endeavour to establish a nucleus for the noble fund 
it was designed to aid. 

It would be beside our purpose to trace the history of the 
"Mendelssohn Scholarships" from tliis splendid beginning 
to the final success of the movement. But it is satisfactory 
to know that Mdlle. Lind's intentions with regard to them 
have long been carried out, both in the spirit and the letter, 
and will continue to be so carried out in perpetuity, though 
only to a certain limited extent, since many modifications of 
the original plan were found necessary, before the Foundation, 
was permanently established. 

1848.] " ELIJAHS 249 

The first idea was, that the Scholarships should be united 
mth the Conservatorkim der Miisik founded by Mendelssohn 
himself at Leipzig, in the year 1843 ; but this was sub- 
sequently found impracticable. The directors of the Con- 
s&rvatorium, though they had previously appealed to England 
for aid, silently withdrew from the project, and the proposal 
for an amalgamation of funds was allowed to drop. But the 
English promoters of the undertaking followed up the idea 
with undiminished enthusiasm. A committee was formed in 
London, of which Sir George Smart was elected the chairman, 
Herr Carl Klingemann the secretary, and Mr. Buxton the 
treasurer. The sum derived from the performance amounted, 
in round numbers, to a thousand pounds ; and the committee 
were enabled to invest this sum in the Three per cent. 
Annuities as the much desired nucleus of the fund. 
The capital thus raised was permitted to accumulate, 
at compound interest, until 1856, when the Committee 
considered themselves justified in electing the first 
" Mendelssohn Scholar." Their choice fell, on that occasion, 
upon Mr. Arthur Seymour Sullivan (now Sir Arthur) for 
whom Madame Goldschmidt afterwards entertained a sincere 
friendship, and for whose talent she felt a warm admiration. 
How well he justified the choice of the Committee is too 
widely known among our readers to need remark here. 
He has been succeeded by other Scholars, elected solely 
in recognition of their individual merit, and promise of 
future fruition. The capital of the fund now amounts 
to more than £2000. The elections take place at ir- 
regular intervals ; but, every year, on the 4th of Nov- 
ember, the Committee meet for the transaction of busi- 
ness, in memory of the anniversary of the great composer's 

Until the end of her life, Madame Goldschmidt continued 
to take the deepest interest in the Foundation, and the 

250 JENNY LIND. [bk. via. ch. vii. 

election of its Scholars ; and we cannot doubt that her name 
will be remembered, in connection with the Memorial she 
raised to her departed friend, for many a century to come — 
for the Foundation is legally secured, and remains in 

( 251 ) 



The tribute to the memory of Mendelssohn, with its careful 
preparation, its busy work, and its triumphant result, might 
well have exhausted the powers, both mental and physical, 
of an artist of no ordinary strength ; but Mdlle. Lind had no 
time for rest. Four days later she was due at Manchester ; 
and, within little more than six weeks, she had engaged to 
' give five more concerts, entirely for charitable purposes, 
besides a benefit for Mr. Balfe. 

The campaign began with two concerts, given on the 19th 
and 21st of December, for the " Manchester Eoyal Infirmary 
and Dispensary," wliich, like the "Brompton Hospital for 
Consumption," sorely needed additional accommodation. 
These two concerts produced a sum exceeding £2,500, wliich, 
as will be seen from the following address, written in the 
name of the " General Committee," was made to serve as 
the nucleus of a fund for the erection of an additional 

" North Wing " :— 

" Manchester, January 1, 1849. 

" Mademoiselle Lind, 

" In the name of the ' General Committee of the Lind 
Concerts,' we have been requested to convey to you their 
warmest thanks for the noble and disinterested assistance 
you have so kindly rendered to the cause of Charity. 

"You are already aware that the large sum of £2,512 18s. 
lid. has been raised through your generous aid, and you 
win rejoice to learn that this splendid result of your exer- 
tions has made it no longer doubtful that the erection of an 

252 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. viii. 

additional Wing to onr Infirmary will, at no distant period, 
be accomplished. 

" No words of ours would adequately express our deep 
sense of obligation for your kindness. We trust, however, 
that you will receive a better and more enduring return 
than any we can offer, in the consciousness of having done 
good, in the future blessings of those whose sufferings you 
shall have been instrumental in relieving, and in the 
approval of Him Who has given you the disposition as well 
as the ability to benefit your fellow-creatures. 

" We beg to assure you that, however highly we may 
estimate those distinguished talents which have gained for 
you a well-merited celebrity in every country of Europe, we 
value still more highly that benevolent spirit, and those 
sterling qualities of the heart, which secure for you the 
respect and the affection of all who have the happiness to 
know you. 

" One favour still we have to ask of you, and that is, that 
you will be pleased to accept from the Committee the 
present of which we are now the bearers. We hope that 
you will receive it as a memorial of your visit to Man- 
chester, and as a sincere and grateful acknowledgment of 
your valuable and gratuitous efforts for the alleviation of 
human suffering. 

"Wishing you, in our names, and in the name of every 
member of the Committee, the enjoyment of many years 
of happiness, 

" We are, 

" With every sentiment of esteem, 

" Yours very truly and obliged, 

(Signed) " J. C. Maetin, 

" K. C. Clifton. 

" To Mademoiselle Jenny Lind." 

The " present " here alluded to consisted of a dressing- 
case, and a pearl necklace, accompanied by a card, requesting 
the acceptance of the gift, and an ofl&cial letter from the 
Chairman of the Committee, formally acknowledging the 
donation to the Infirmary. Mdlle. Lind had a rooted objec- 
tion to the acceptance of presents, on occasions of this kind. 

1848-49.] FOR CEAIilTY. 253 

and for some time after this period, resolutely refused all that 
were offered ; but, at first, she hesitated to put this resolution 
into effect, from fear lest its motive should be misunderstood, 
and her action ascribed to haughtiness. 

The next performance took place on the 28th of December, 
for the benefit of the "Queen'sJ College Hospital" at 
Birmingham, for which it produced £1,100, and in acknow- 
ledgment of which, the Governors of the Institution presented 
her with a work-box, ornamented with the following 
inscription : — 



queen's college and HOSPITAL, BIRMINGHAM, 






queen's HOSPITAL 

DECEMBER 28tH, 1848. 

And now came a few days of well-earned recreation — a 
Christmas and New Year's gathering at Crumpsall, near 
Manchester, the country-house of Mr. and Mrs. Salis 

Mdlle. Lind had accepted the invitation, more than a 
month in advance, in the following letter : — 

" Clairville, November 7, 1848. 

" Dearest, 

" I thank you, from my heart, for your sweet letter. 

" I will, indeed, stay with you, as long as you can bear 

with me. I will be ever so cheerful and gay, and favour 

you with all sorts of nonsense. Do not believe that I shall 

not feel when it is too much for you. And do not believe. 

254 JENNY LTND. [bk. viii. cir. viii. 

also, that you will not have had quite enough of the Frdukin 
(myself) in a very little while. In the meantime, accept 
my best thanks for permitting me to enjoy this Festival 
in your house ; and all that I can give you in return for it 
is a glad and grateful heart, that can certainly never feel 
lonely, while it is the recipient of such goodness. 

" My greetings to all ; and believe me your sincerely 

(Signed) " Jenny Lind." * 

A large gathering of relatives and intimate friends had 
assembled, at the bidding of the kind host and hostess, to 
keep the " Merrie Feaste of Yule-tide " at Crumpsall, when 
Mdlle. Lind herself was greeted with a hearty welcome 
beneath its hospitable roof- tree. No possible arrangement 
that could tend to increase the pleasure or vary the amuse- 
ments of the happy convives had been neglected. Games, 
banquets, and pleasure-parties all played their part in the 
programmes of the daily entertainment. There was to be 
a mighty Christmas-tree; and a ball, to which all the 
available dancers in the neighbourhood had long before been 
invited. But there was to be no music. Neither Mr. nor 
Mrs. Schwabe would have permitted a single word to be 
wliispered which could have led their honoured guest to 
suppose that any member of the party entertained the hope 
of hearing her sing — though no one present doubted for a 
moment that the desire to do so was universal. Mdlle. Lind 
herself knew this, of course, as well as everyone else ; and, 
while thoroughly appreciating the delicacy which prevented 
her kind host and hostess from breathing a word on the 
subject, made up her mind that the general desire should 
on no account be disappointed, but that it should, on the 
contrary, be gratified on the evening on which the greatest 
number of guests would be present to enjoy the treat she had 

* From Mrs. Salis Sclnvabe's coUectiou. 

1848-49.] FOR CHARITY. 255 

determined to provide for them. The little ruse with which 
she announced her intention was very characteristic. 

" There is no piano in this room," she said to Mrs. Meyer 
— Mrs. Salis Schwabe's sister — when passing through the 
ball-room, in the afternoon. 

" It will not be wanted," said Mrs. Meyer, " as there will 
be no music." 

" Indeed there will," she said. " I am going to sing " — 
" Ich werde singenJ" 

The delight caused by this announcement may be readily 
imagined. A piano was placed in the room ; and, at a 
suitable moment, she entertained the company with a 
selection of her most favourite songs — and not the company 
only ; for a door was set ajar, and, grouped behind it, the 
servants belonging to the establishment, together with those 
brought by the visitors, listened with a zest as great, if 
scarcely so intelligent, as that of the more highly-favoured 
auditors. All were delighted with the unexpected pleasure 
provided for them ; but it is doubtful whether any one 
present enjoyed the gift so thoroughly, or so purely, as the 

All too soon, the pleasant little holiday came to an end. 
It had been the delight of all who were fortunate enough 
to be present at it ; and, though she to whose labours it 
had given so cheerful a respite at that busy time is now 
no more, it is still remembered by many as a bright spot in 
the past. It is from the lips of Mrs. Salis Schwabe herself, 
and those of her sister, that our account of it has been 
furnished ; and though, to some, it may bear the appearance 
of an unimportant episode in a life of so many grave realities, 
it really was of incalculable use in bracing Mdlle. Lind for 
the long list of exhausting engagements that lay before her. 

The next appointment was for a concert, to be given on 
the 6th of January, 1849, for the benefit of the " Southern 

256 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. vin. 

Hospital" at Liverpool, for which, with the never- failing 
success which was now looked for as a matter of course, the 
sum of £1,400 was raised, in a single evening, and in 
memory of which the Committee presented Mdlle. Lind with 
a silver tea-kettle and pair of candlesticks, afterwards 
bequeathed to her son, and bearing the following inscrip- 
tion : — 









And now it was time to prepare for a second visit to 
Norwich, in wliich, to this day, the memory of MdUe. Lind 
is regarded with greater veneration than in any other 
Cathedral-town in England, 

She arrived there, on the evening of Saturday, the 20th 
of January, amidst the cheers of the shouting populace, and 
the pealing of the bells — an honour which, though it had 
been paid to her on her previous visit, she had expressly 
wished the authorities to dispense with on the present 
occasion. She was the guest, as before, of the Bishop and 
Mrs. Stanley, at the Palace ; and, as before, was received by 
her host and hostess with the most affectionate courtesy, 
and a hospitality which knew no bounds. 

Two concerts were arranged to take place on the 22nd 
and 23rd of January, for the benefit of the poor of Norwich. 

The programmes contained a liberal selection of the pieces 
which had produced the greatest effect in London ; Qui la 
voce, the unaccompanied Trio from Rohcrto il Diavolo, the Trio 

1849.] FOR CHARITY. 257 

with the two flutes from The Camp of Silesia,. Rossini's Di 
piacer, Mozart's Non paventar, the Lezione di Canto — Con 
pazienza suppoi^tiamo — from Fioravanti's II Fanatico per la 
musica ; and, among the sacred pieces, With verdure clad. 
Hear ye Israel, Lift thine eyes, and Holy, holy, holy Lord. 
The music was conducted, on both occasions, by Mr. 
Benedict, who was publicly thanked by the Mayor for his 
valuable services, and seemed much affected by the tribute 
so delicately paid to him ; and, with the assistance of Miss 
Dolby, Signor Marras, Signor Belletti, and Masters Mann and 
Bunnet — two Choristers of the Cathedral — the concerts pro- 
duced a great effect upon the audience, and realised the net 
sum of £1,253.* 

We have been permitted, as on the former occasion, to 
narrate the circumstances of the visit in the words of Mrs. 
Stanley, as she recorded them in her letters to her sister, 
Mrs. Augustus Hare. 

* No specific plan was decided upon, at the moment, for the application 
of this sum of money, which was placed, provisionally, in the hands of 
trustees, in order that the matter might receive due consideration, before 
any irrevocable step was taken with regard to its ultimate disposal. It was 
proposed, at one time, to devote the proceeds of the concerts to the building 
of baths and wash-houses for the poor. This plan, however, was not put 
into execution ; and the question remained open for four years, during 
which period the money was placed out at interest. A final decision was, 
however, arrived at, in 1853, when Madame Goldschmidt, in consultation 
with the Stanley family and other friends, resolved to devote the fund to 
the foimdation of a hospital for the sick children of the poor. Under the 
name of " The Jenny Lind Infirmary for Sick Children," this institution 
still exists, in a very flourishing condition. The original nucleus was by 
no means the last donation that the Foundress contributed to its endow- 
ment. She continued to take deep interest in it, until the day of her 
death ; and so largely has its sphere of usefulness increased, that, in the 
year 1890, it relieved no less than 1230 "out-patients," in addition to the 
257 little sufferers who were admitted as "in-patients" into its wards. 
(We are indebted, for the verification of these details, to the courtesy of 
Mr. J. J. Winter, who has acted, for many years, as Hon. Chairman of 
the Committee of Management). 


258 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. viir. 

The first of these communications — a fragment, for 
which we are indebted to the courtesy of the present Dean 
of Westminster — was written a montli before the visit, of 
which it announces the probable date : — 

" Norwich, December 20, 1849. 

■ " Jenny Lind will come about Jan. 20. The Bishop saw 
her at her own house on Saturday. She had had overtures 
from the Norwich musical people l3ut declined all that would 
be profit or speculation to anybody, would have nobody to 
benefit but the poor. She hoped the tickets would not be too 
high. The Bishop proposed £1 for the reserved seats. 
' Would not 10s. be better ? ' she said, ' and then I could sing 
twice ! ' He hesitated about overtasking her. She said 
* Never mind, if the people %vish to hear me.' She repeated 
what she had said before, of her having left the stage, and 
that she was free — raising up her eyes and hands as if she 
would have flown up into the air like a bird." 

The following fragment, which is undated, was evidently 
written on Sunday, January the 21st : — 

" Jenny Lind came last night, and was more charming 
than ever. All our previous impressions were confirmed, 
and all change in her is for the better. She did look so 
happy, so free, so delighted to be amongst us again ; and 
her knowing English better made her enter more into all 
that was going on." 

The next letter was written on the morning of the dav on 
which the first concert was to take place : — 

" Palace, Norwich, January 22, 1849. 

"Dearest M., 

" You will be glad to hear that we are all doing very 
well so far. 

" As was threatened, all Norwich turned out to receive 
Jenny, and the horses taken off the carriage and dragged 
up to the Palace; but knowing what it was last time, we 
were able to take precautions, and these were so well cir- 
culated, that all was quiet and orderly. 

" The Mayor met her, and brought her to the Palace in his 

1849.] FOR CHARITT. 259 

carriage. We had some of the Committee to dinner, and 
the Adeanes came by the same train. I had to prepare Jenny 
for the reception of various gifts, which she did not like at 
all. She said, when she came to sing for charity, she did 
not wish to receive anything for it — it was not convenablc. 
However, I told her the truth, that, in the presence of her 
gifts, others liked to give of theirs ; and this morning there 
came six different manufacturers, each unknown to the others, 
having prepared their choicest articles, and one man having 
actually found out her milliner in London, and got the dress 
made up for her to wear to-morrow morning. One of them 
made her a very good speech, which she begged the Bishop 
to answer. She had told him before, that the only condition 
on which she would receive the presents, was, that when she 
came again on the same errand, as she hoped to do many 
times, there should be no more. 

" There was an immense crowd in the Cathedral yesterday, 
to her great annoyance ; but precautions had been taken 
there to prevent them passing into the north transept, and 
while every head in the choir was straining to see her, there 
was she standing back as earnestly wrapped in the Service 
and her book, as if there was not a creature there. I had a 
long talk with her in the garden afterwards, and she told me 
all her affairs quite 0])enly. She says she is free ; but I can 
see she feels a dread of being worked upon to save her 
company and her director from ruin. I hope we may just 
be in the right moment for supporting her in her deter- 
mination. All she said was frank, noble and simple. Her 
companion is the best that could be for her ; and as 
Jenny said, ' Slie has lived so much with clergymen, she is 
so clever at explaining to me the Bible, and we talk all out 
of it on Sundays. 

" Ever yours, 

"C. S."* 

The next letter, written five days later, is chiefly of a 

personal character, but the following extract from it will be 

read with interest : — 

" January 27, 1849. 

" On Sunday, after the Evening Service, we turned into 
the garden, and I asked Jenny Lind at once to tell me about 

* Kindly furnished by Mr. Augustus Hare. 

S 2 

260 JENNY LIND. [be. viii. ch. vin. 

Lumley. She described the trouble she had been in, and 
how Mr. Lumley never would believe, tliat she could have 
the heart to leave him. Otherwise, he knew, a year 
and a-half ago. She had told him then, what her deter- 
mination was, that she would help him with concerts, which 
would be a sacrifice, for she had new engagements she would 
like much better." 

Three days later, follows a letter, full of deepest interest 

throughout : — 

" Palace, Norwich, January 30, 1849. 

"Dearest M., 

" We greatly enjoyed our interval of quiet before the 
fresh business of this week ; but nothing could be more 
satisfactory than the impression left upon our minds by this 
last visit. 

" We took leave of Jenny with the comfortable feeling 
that there was a prospect before her of peace and leisure and 
happiness, and that we may see her perhaps when she has 
outlived her voice and her fame ; and, as I told her, that was 
what I should like, to have her without the disagreeable 
feeling, that you are selfish in not calling in others to partake 
the enjoyment. 

" I was glad to hear her say to Mary, that though she had 
never kept a journal, her memory was strong, and that there 
was not a single thing that had ever happened to her, of 
whicli she had not the most distinct recollection. On the 
7th of March, eleven years ago, she said she got up one 
person, and before she went to bed that night she was another 
person — her power had come to her — she had made her debut 
on the staere and found she could act. She looked round the 
library and said, how the different parts of it reminded her of 
what the Bishop of Tasmania had said to her — many things 
which she did not understand at the time ; from her imper- 
fect knowledge of English, but which came to her now in 
their full meaning. 

" Ever yours very affectionately, 

"C. S."* 

Though the following undated fragment — communicated 
by the present Dean of Westminster — clearly belongs to an 

* Kindly furnished by Mr. Augustus Hare. 

1849.] FOR CHARITY. 261 

earlier period, we have thought it desirable to insert it here, 
in order to show Mrs. Stanley's deep appreciation of the 
effect produced by Mdlle. Lind in the Opera in which she 
had won so many laurels. It is, indeed, peculiarly valuable, 
as the only record we have met witli of an occasion on which 
that lady witnessed her friend's performance at Her Majesty's 
Theatre :— 

" (Friday.) We finished our last London night with the 
Sonnambula. Lady Stanley said truly that no one had an 
idea of what the singing was till they had heard her there. 
I wished to hear her in that, and only in that, and it was 
indeed perfect. In the first part the joyousness, the manner 
in which she went round asking for and receiving the con- 
gratulations of the villagers on her marriage. — the fine 
matured expression of love and happiness in her whose 
manner and countenance were what one felt she would be 
herself in the position — the simple curiosity when the 
foreign Count comes in, the doubt, the gradual dawning fear 
and suspicion of him, her ingenious avoidance of his atten- 
tions — then the surprise, indignation, and agony of finding 
her betrothed lover jealous, and the earnestness of her appeals 
to him, were most touching ; and then the change to the 
awful calm of the Sonnambula, when she comes in through 
the window, in white, with her night-lamp in her hand, her 
eyes open, her voice as it were muffled, and so exquisitely 
sweet, as she sank down upon the couch, and lay motionless, 
her voice seeming to die av/ay in the distance — the last 
scene, where she comes out upon the roof and walks over 
the mill-wheel on a plank which cracks under her, and thus 
solemnly and slowly comes down through the crowd to the 
front, resumes the same kind of muftied song, and feels for 
the flowers her lover had given her — the manner of her 
separating them and tearing them to pieces was beautiful, 
and then her waking from sleep, and her return to happiness. 
I am very glad we have seen it. There was nothing which 
grated against our feeling of her character — quite the 
eontrary : she was herself throughout. The house was 
crowded to the utmost extent, yet in the different points it 
was all as still as if there had not been a living creature in 
the place, besides Jenny herself, and the faintest sound of 
her voice possible to be uttered." 

2G2 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. cii. ix. 



The next concert at ^^1lich Mdlle. Lind sang, after taking 
leave of her friends at ISTorwich, was one given in London, 
on the 29th of January, for the benefit of Mr. Balfe, whose 
warm artistic devotion as conductor at the Opera she spoke 
of, to the end of her life, with grateful recognition. 

This was followed, four days later, by a perforraance of 
great importance in aid of the " Eoyal Infirmary," at 

The Bishop of Worcester had written to Mdlle. Lind, in 
November, 1847, requesting her to sing at the Worcester 
Festival — the triennial performance in connection with 
the " Three Choirs " — in August, 1848 ; and she had con- 
sented to do so, if she found it possible to make the neces- 
sary arrangements. But, when the time for the fulfilment 
of her conditional promise drew near, Mr. Lumley, whose 
engagement with her did not expire until the end of the 
year, not only refused his consent, but announced her for a 
concert at Birmingham, on the very day on \^-hich the Wor- 
cester Festival began. In order to atone, as far as she could, 
for this disappointment — a very grievous one indeed for the 
Worcester Committee — she sent the sum of £50 from her 
own private purse for the charity, in aid of which the 
Festival was given — the " Society for the Belief of the 
Widows and Orphans of the Clergy " ; and, as soon as she 
had completed her engagement with the theatrical manager, 
ofiered to give a concert for any other charity in the diocese 


that might stand in need of her help. While gratefully 
accepting the generous offer, the Committee decided in favour 
of the " Worcester Eoyal Infirmary," as the recipient of its 
benefits ; and, on the 2nd of Tebruary, 1849, Mdlle. Lind 
gave a concert, in the College Hall, at which the sum of 
£840 was raised for this purpose, and devoted to the erection 
of a chapel for the Institution. The Committee was very 
anxious to record its appreciation of the gift by offering to 
the donor a present of Worcester china ; but this she 
firmly but courteously declined to accept ; for, as we have 
already seen, she had always been most unwilling to receive 
any sort of acknowledgment in return for her charitable 

And thus, between the 4th of December, 1848, and the 
2nd of February, 1849 — a period of less than nine weeks — 
Mdlle. Lind had, at nine concerts, (not including that for 
the benefit of Mr. Balfe), succeeded in raising the noble sum 
of £8,740, in aid of five hospitals, one artistic memorial, and 
the orchestra which accompanied her on her tour ; and, if we 
add to this the receipts of the concert given for the Brompton 
Hospital, in the previous July, the sum amounts to £10,500. 

For tlie Brompton Hospital (July 31, 1848) 
For the Orchestra (Dec. 4, 1848) 
For the Mendelssohn Scholarships (Dec. 15, 1848) 
For the Manchester Hosijital (Dec. 19 and 21, 1848) 
For the Queen's College Hospital, at Birmingham 

(Dec. 28, 1848) 

For the Southern (Toxteth) Hospital, at Liverpool 

(Jan. 6, 1849) 

For the Norwich Charities* (Jan. 22 and 23, 1849) 
For the Worcester Infirmary (Feb. 2, 1849) 

Total . . . 

* Applied, in 1853, to " The Jenny Lind Infirmary for Sick Children." 
(See page 257.) 















264 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. ix. 

And now, after this long period of unselfish work for 
charitable purposes, followed the last portion of the tour, 
undertaken, of necessity, for private profit. 

Into the details of this it is unnecessary to enter at any 
length, though one or two little circumstances connected 
with it are not devoid of public interest. 

Mendelssohn's Elijah was given, at Manchester, on the 6th 
of February, and repeated, at Birmingham, on the 8th, Then 
followed concerts at Huddersfield, Liverpool {Elijah)^ London 
(for Madame Dulcken), Shrewsbury, Chester, Derby, Wake- 
field, Sheffield, Nottingham, and almost every place of any 
importance in England. 

At the concerts given in the three last-named towns 
Mr. Benedict officiated as Conductor, and Mr. Goldschmidt as 
Solo-Pianist ; and, at the close of one of these performances, 
an incident occurred, of so interesting a character, that we 
cannot resist the temptation to relate the circumstance in 

The programme had been a long one, still farther 
lengthened by several encores ; and Mdlle. Lind had retired 
to the " artists' room," more than usually fatigued by her 
exertions. The audience, however, knew nothing of this. 
It had heard so much, and been so well pleased with it, that — 
perhaps, not quite unnaturally — it was tempted to ask for more. 

The period was a trying one. The political horizon had 
never been more darkly overclouded. The revolutionary 
spirit was abroad, throughout the length and breadth of 
Europe ; and almost every European throne, with the ex- 
ception of our own, had been more or less shaken by it.* 
But events upon the Continent only seemed to bring the 
loyalty of England into stronger relief than ever. 

* Hence the remark, in Mdlle. Liud's letter to Madame Wichmann 
(page 237) : " It is quiet in Berlin now." The storm, in Prussia, had passed 

1849.] THE STAGE AND THE D 11 AM A. 265 

The audience at the concert was a very loyal one ; and, at 
the close of the performance, it gave proof of the fact, by 
calling for God Save the Queen. But, Mdlle. Lind was really 
too much fatigued to sing again. The public knew her too 
well, to doubt the reality of the exhaustion from which she 
was evidently suffering, and accepted her mute acknow- 
ledgment of its frantic call with perfect courtesy. But, it 
could not give up the National Anthem. A courageous 
amateur, with a powerful voice, intoned the opening notes 
of the well-known strain ; and, in an instant, it was taken 
up on every side. The audience determined to sing God 
Save the Queen for itself; and, rising simultaneously, in 
accordance with time-honoured custom, shouted out the 
familiar chorus, with a vigour which penetrated even to the 
sacred recesses of the " artists' room." 

With tlie almost morbid tendency to self-reproach, even 
when quite undeserved, wdiich formed so conspicuous an 
element in her character, Mdlle. Lind accused herself of 
not having done her whole duty. Forgetting her fatigue — 
or, ratlier, mistaking mental excitement for bodily strength 
— she hurried back to the platform, and sang the stately 
solo at her best, while the audience still joined in the 
chorus. The people were in raptures ; and never, perhaps, 
was the prayer for our beloved Sovereign's safety sung 
with greater spirit, or more loyal enthusiasm. 

After the concert at which this loyal demonstration took 
place, there remained but three more engagements for the 
completion of the tourme ; a concert at Cambridge, followed 
by performances of The Creation at Manchester and Liverpool. 
And then, for the first time in presence of a London audience, 
Mdlle. Lind sang in The Creation, at Exeter Hall. 

This last performance needs a more detailed notice than 
we have thought it necessary to give of most of the provin- 
cial concerts ; for, we are now rapidly approaching the period 

266 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. ix. 

at wliicli our great inima donna, reliiiqiiisliing her operatic 
career, attained in the Oratorio a supremacy no less absolute 
than that which she had so long maintained upon the 

And now it behoves us to be more than ordinarily care- 
ful in the choice of fitting terms for the expression of our 
critical analysis, and to demand an equal amount of caution 
on the part of our readers, since the employment of an inap- 
propriate word, or the misinterpretation of a doubtful one, 
could scarcely fail to lead to infinite confusion. 

We speak, then, of Mdlle. Lind as relinquishing her operatic 
— not her dramatic — career. And we do so; of set purpose ; 
for, though she ceased, after the year 1849, to appear before 
the public in the character of an operatic singer, she culti- 
vated the dramatic element, in so far as it can be cultivated 
apart from the Stage, with undiminished power, to the end 
of her public life. 

To those who have not entered very deeply into the study 
of Dramatic Art, in its historic and philosophical aspects, this 
assertion may perhaps call for some little explanation. 

The perfect Drama, as we find it manifested, in its noblest 
and most artistically-developed form, in the Trilogies of 
^Eschylus and Sophocles, long centuries before the Christian 
era ; as revived — in so far as its revival was possible — in the 
year 1600, by Emilio del Cavaliere in Eome, by Jacopo Peri 
and Giulio Caccini at Florence, and, later on, by Monteverde 
and his successors at Venice ; as purified from the abuses 
with which conventional stiffness had disfigured it, by 
Gluck, in the latter half of tlie eighteenth century, and 
again, by Wagner, in the latter half of the nineteenth — the 
perfect Drama, unchanged in the essential characteristics of 
its inner life since its first appearance in the history of 
Hellenic Art, needs many and diverse media for tiie full 
expression of its a3Sthetic import : notably the following : — .. 


(1.) The Stage, with its scenery, decorations, "properties," and other 
accessories necessary for the pictorial representation of the locality 
in which the action of the Drama is supposed to take place. 

(2.) CosTUJiE appropriate to the characters impersonated. 

(3.) Action — the Mimih of the German critics — including facial ex- 
pression, pose of limbs and body, the motions of the dance, and 
other analogous gestures. 

(4.) Poetry, in all its forms, and with all its varied attributes. 

(5.) Music, in the form of orchestral colouring, employed, either alone, 
or as an accompaniment to the voice. 

(6.) Declamatoby power, governed by strictest accuracy of verbal 
emphasis and rhetorical delivery, 

(7.) Vocal expression, adapted to every varying shade of passion or 
emotion, j-et, like everj'- other legitimate means of effect, held in 
absolute control by— 

(8.) Dramatic truth — the one unchanging principle, in the absence of 
which, obedience to the logical demands of the " situation," the 
expression of natural feeling, and the portrayal of individual 
character in the conduct and development of the parts imper- 
sonated, would be alike impossible. 

The ideal Drama — if we may accept the theory now taught 
in almost every School of Art in Europe — demands the em- 
ployment of all these means of effect, in its service, and 
many others of less importance ; but not necessarily their 
simultancotis employment. In certain cases, one alone may 
suffice ; in others, many are needed — perhaps all. The three 
first, in the list we have enumerated, constitute what may 
fairly be called the external body of the Drama — that part of 
it which is equally intelligible to the adept, and to the outer 
world. The rest may, with equal truth, be said to represent 
its soul — the inner life of the Dramatic Element. The three 
first, Mdlle. Lind renounced, for ever, after her last per- 
formance at Her INIajesty's Theatre, in the year 1849. The 
rest she retained, with undimmed lustre, to the last. 

Had it been otherwise, she could never have reigned 
supreme — as she undoubtedly did — in her new domain. For, 
the Oratorio is, in the best and fullest sense of the word, no 
less a dramatic ci'eation than the Opera. In their infancy 

2G8 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. ix. 

the two Art-forms differed from each other only in the mere 
accident, that the subject of the one was drawn from the 
records of Sacred History, and that of the other, either from 
those of Profane History, or from the dreams of Mythology 
or Eomance. Both originated in Italy. The first true 
Oratorio — Emilio del Cavaliere's La Bapprescntazionc delV 
Anima e dd Coiyo — was produced at Rome in the self-same 
year in which the first true Opera — Jacopo Peri's Euridice — 
was produced in Florence — the year 1600. Both were 
represented with the usual accessories of scenery, dramatic 
action, and appropriate dresses ; the only difference between 
them being, that the Opera was enacted upon a temporary 
stage erected in the interior of a Florentine palazzo, while the 
stage for the Oratorio was temporarily fitted up in the 
Oratory attached to the Church of S. Maria in Vallicella, 
rendered famous, even then, by the ministrations of S. Philip 
Neri. These facts are proved, beyond all doubt; for the 
music of both these interesting works was printed at the 
time of their production, and accompanied, in both cases, by 
a detailed account of the scenic decorations, the action, and 
the costumes employed in their representation.* And so close 
is the analogy between them, that the Oratorio may be fitly 
described as a Sacred Opera. 

The Oratorios of Carissimi, Leonardo Leo, Alessandro 
Scarlatti, and their Italian contemporaries, were all performed 
upon a stage, with scenery and dramatic action ; and, even 
in Germany, the same plan was adopted with success, 
both in Dresden, and at the Stadt-Theater in the Goose- 
Market at Hamburg. Later on, the scenery and action 
were dropped ; but no attempt was ever made to eliminate 
the dramatic element, which was indeed inseparable from 
the original scheme. It is true that, in a few rare 

* For a full account of the circumstances, see the article " Opera," in 
Sir George Grove's ' Dictionary of Music and Musicians.' 


instances, Oratorios were moulded in the epic form, as 
in the case of Messiah, and Israel in Egypt. But these 
stand only as the "exceptions which prove the rule";* 
and even such Oratorios as these abound in passages of 
powerfully dramatic character, which the great composers 
never failed to accentuate in setting them to music. 

It was to Mdlle. Lind's frank acceptance of this peculiar 
feature in the construction of the Oratorio that the success 
with which she cultivated it during the later portion of 
her career was in great measure due. And it was only 
natural that it should be so. How could so true a " Child 
of the Drama " have failed to manifest, in this new phase 
of development, the dramatic instinct with which she had 
been so thoroughly imbued since her infancy — the instinct 
which intensified the power of every note she sang, 
whether on the stage, or in the concert-room — which openly 
proclaimed itself to all, from the most matured of artists to 
the intelligent boy of sixteen, who, when she sang the 
"rand scena from Der Frcischutz at the Gewandhaus, in 1846, 
told us that "one could see that it was as much as ever 
she could do to hold herself in check so as not to act it." It 
was a clever observation ; but we must not let it lead us too 
far. For, she did hold herself in check ; she did not act it ; 
she merely sang it, in the concert-room, with such unmistak- 
able manifestation of dramatic power that the inexperienced 
young listener himself /c/^ the action, and thought that she was 
holding back " to keep herself from acting," f when, in reality, 
she was supx^lying the place of " acting " by the dramatic 
j)Ower of her singing. And, in all such cases, her manifesta- 

* We use the proverb in its true and original sense; not in that in 
uhich it is popularly misinterpreted. The use of the exception i.s, to prove 
(i.e. test) the existence of the rule; for, as "there is no rule without an 
exception," so, also, there can be no exception where no rule has previously 

t See vol. i., page 330. 

270 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. ix. 

tion of this dramatic power was so complete, that the 
absence of the ordinary stage accessories was quite unnoticed 
by the audience. What greater solemnity could they have 
added to her declaration of the divine message, in Hear ye, 
Isradl — what more touching depth of expression, to the 
music assigned to the Widow ? Would the intensity of 
womanly love embodied in Eve's impassioned utterances 
to Adam — the devotion of Oli, tliou for wJiom I am ! — have 
been one whit enhanced by a scenic representation of the 
Garden of Eden ? Assuredly not. Where the dramatic 
power is greatest, the appliances of the stage are least 
needed. It has always been so, with the greatest artists. 
No one who heard Miss Clara Novello deliver the trumpet- 
call of Miriam, Sing yc to the Lord, for He hath trium'phed 
gloriously: the horse and his rider hath He thrown into the 
sea, could have been more profoundly impressed by it, if she 
had sung it, with a timbrel in her hand, in front of a 
picture of the Eed Sea, with all its desert surroundings. In 
cases like these, genius, and genius alone, is able to set the 
scenic representation as clearly before the mental vision of 
the hearer as it would have been set before his bodily eye 
at the theatre, and thus to transfer the dramatic element 
from the Opera to the Oratorio, though the Oratorio be 
no longer acted upon the stage. 

Mdlle. Lind excelled in the exhibition of this peculiar 
gift. The power she exercised over her audience was so 
complete, the spell by which she bound them so irresistible;, 
that no external sign was needed to enforce the accents of 
her voice. And it was the free exercise of this power, the 
hidden working of this mysterious spell, that won for her, at 
once, in this new phase of her career, a glory equal to that 
she had already attained in the former one. A glory, perhaps, 
still greater, in proportion to the greater difficulty of the 
task set before her. For, if it be admitted, as we have not 


hesitated to assert, on the consentient authority of nearly 
every School in Europe, that Poetry, Painting, Music, Dra- 
matic action. Costume, Dancing, in a word, all the represen- 
tative Arts, are needed in combination for the perfection of 
the true dramma per la musica, it is clear that nothing short 
of the highest order of genius can afford to dispense with 
so many legitimate means of effect, leaving one only to 
suffice for the whole. Yet no one who heard Mdlle. Lind in 
Oratorio felt that anytliing was wanting. She overcame 
the difficulty with such consummate ease, that none but 
the initiate of the esoteric school ever suspected its existence. 
And therefore it is, that we say the glory of her artistic 
career, though born of the Opera, culminated in the Oratorio, 
in which she produced an equal effect with means so much 
more limited. She had already given proof of her power 
in Elijah ; she was now to show it in other Oratorios, as 
great, and greater. And in none did she fail in reaching 
a level worthy of her earlier fame. 

On the 3rd of April, 1849, a performance of The Creation 
was announced, at Exeter Hall, for the aid of five imjDortant 
charities, four of which were intimately connected with Art : 

" A grand performance of sacred music was given last 
night," says the critic of The Times, " consisting of Handel's 
Coronation Anthem, Zadoh the Priest, and Haydn's Creation. 

" The principal attraction, which drew together one of the 
most crowded audiences that ever congregated within the 
precincts of Exeter Hall, was Mdlle. Jenny Lind, who sang 
the soprano part in The Creation. 

" The main object of the performance was a charitable one. 
Mdlle. Jenny Lind accorded her services gratuitously ; and, 
after the band, chorus, and principal singers were paid, the 
surplus will be divided between the ' Pioyal Society of 
Musicians,' the ' Society of Female Musicians,' the ' Clioral 
Eund,' the ' Pioyal Academy of Music,' and the ' Governesses' 
Benevolent Institution.' The receipts averaged, we under- 
stand, between £1,400 and £1,500, which will guarantee at 
least £850 for the benefit of those institutions. 

272 - JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. ix. 

" The performance was honoured by the presence of Her 
Majesty and Prince Albert, who attended with a numerous 
suite. The Eoyal party arrived at' the beginning, and re- 
mained until the end, in spite of the noise made by a number 
of individuals in their attempt to escape long before the last 
chorus had begun, who, by the disturbance they created, 
rendered it impossible for the rest of the audience to pay that 
serious attention which propriety demands during the exe- 
cution of a sacred Oratorio. In the stalls, among other 
illustrious persons, was observed the Duke of Wellington. 

" The entire direction of the performance was entrusted to 
Mr. Benedict, who provided a splendid band of 130 performers 
— the best to be found in London — and a numerous and 
powerful chorus, combining the most reputed professional 
singers with a large reinforcement from the London ' Sacred 
Harmonic Society.' On the whole, we have rarely heard a 
more effective force ; and the general execution of the music 
was of a very high order, Mr. Benedict conducting through- 
out with that intelligence and masterly precision for whicli 
he is so justly celebrated. 

" After the Anthem of Handel, which was perhaps more 
efficiently rendered than we previously remember it at 
Exeter Hall, Mdlle. Lind sang the well-known Air, Let the 
bright Serapldm, from the same composer's great Oratorio, 
Samson. As an example of energetic declamation and 
ela])orate execution, this may be compared to the most 
ambitious efforts of the Swedish songstress in the florid school 
of vocalisation. The trumpet part was executed with great 
dexterity and clearness by Mr. T. Harper ; and the shake at 
the end, in thirds, between singer and instrumentalist, was 
accomplished with unusual brilliancy. 

" In the Oratorio of Tlic Creation, the most arduous as 
well as the most interesting portion of the music falls to the 
lot of the soprano ; Mdlle. Jenny Lind, however, is never at 
a loss, where true sentiment and musical cleverness are 
demanded. In the primitive and flowing melodies of Haydn, 
she was as much at home as in the deeper and more 
passionate strains of Elijah, and as she will be, no doubt, in 
the impressive airs of the Messiah, which, though she has never 
yet publicly sung it in London, we believe there is some 
hope of her attempting in the course of the present season. 

" Her first effort was the Air, with Chorus, The marvellous 
work, which she gave with a dignity of style suited to the 


subject. In With verdure clad, and the Eecitative that 
precedes it, we had already heard her at Balfe's concert, and 
our favourable opinion was recorded at the time. She sang 
it perhaps still better last night ; there was more fervour, 
with equal correctness. But the Solo which most taxes the 
powers of the vocalist, and from which most was expected by 
the public, was the opening Eecitative and Air of the Second 
Part, On mightij pens the eagle wings. On this Air, which is 
more dramatic than sacred in character, Mdlle. Lind lavished 
all the treasures of her art : and her entire renderinsc of the 
melody was as original as it was striking. In the line — 

" ' And, cooing, calls the tender dove his mate,' 

she produced quite a novel effect, by sustaining the note 
that occurs on the first syllable of the word ' cooing,' for a 
lengthened period. This is twice repeated ; and, though 
Haydn, with his rigid notions of correctness in style, might 
have objected to the innovation, there can be little doubt of 
its influence upon a vast audience, as was plainly evinced, 
last night, by the strong sensation it produced on the majority 
of those present. 

" Mdlle. Lind also sang in the Trios, Most leautifid a^jpear, 
and On Thee each living soul awaits, with Messrs. Lockey 
and Machin, who seconded her with great ability ; in the 
long Duet, interspersed with Chorus, Bg Thee ivith bliss, with 
Mr. Whitworth ; and in Graceful consort, with the same 
gentleman. This latter piece was most admirably rendered 
by both artists, and more applauded than anything else 
during the evening. 

"One of the most general topics of conversation and 
marked approval was the exceeding clearness with which 
Mdlle. Lind pronounced the words of all her Songs, Duets, 
and Trios. In this particular, she evinced a facility, not 
merely noticeable on account of her being a foreigner, but 
worthy of attention as an example even for many singers to 
whom the English language is native and familiar." * 

From a paragraph which appeared in TJic Times on the 
17th of April, we find that the profits of the concert feU 
rather short of the anticipated amount. 

* From TJie Times, April 4, 1849. 

274 • JENNY LIND. [bk. vin. ch. ix. 

" But," says tlie editor, quoting from TJie Standard of the 
previous day, " to her great honour and benevolent disposition 
be it recorded, she has signified her intention to make up the 
net profit of £700 odd to £800 ; so that the four charities 
will each receive £200."* 

We refrain from adding anything to this exhaustive 
critique, which expresses all that need be said on the subject. 
Nor does it fall within the limits of our design to dilate upon 
the later triumphs achieved by Mdlle. Lind in the new path 
she had chosen for the development of her powers. She gave 
only one more Oratorio performance in England, before 
her departure for America — that of Handel's Messiah, at 
Liverpool, on the 19th of August, 1850 ; but she had 
not yet taken leave of her audience at Her Majesty's 
Theatre, and thither we must now follow her, to be present 
at the performance which closed the splendours of her 
Operatic career, 

* The details are not here given with absolute correctness. The 
proceeds of the concert were to be divided, not between four, but between 
five charities. The money was apportioned in the way which seemed to 
the donor most desirable ; and it is on record that " The Royal Society of 
Musicians " received, as its share, £150. 

( 275 ) 



When Mr. Lumley began to make his arrangements for the 
season of 1849, he was much exercised by uncertainty as to 
Mdlle. Lind's intentions for the future. No enCTagjement had 
been made, at the close of the previous season : and, in the 
meantime, rumours were rife as to her retirement from the 
stage, which was said to be imminent. The reader knows far 
more about this, now, than was known, at that time, either 
by Mr. Lumley, or the public ; for he has passed with us 
behind the scenes, and learned, from conversations with Her 
Majesty, and Mrs. Grote, and countless letters to Madame 
Lindblad, Madame Wichmann, Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, and 
other friends, that this idea was not, as was then generally 
supposed, a new one, but had been very seriously discussed, 
after long and mature consideration, as early as the year 
1845, at least. Of all this, the outer world of course 
knew nothing ; and while waiting for definite information on 
the subject in which he was so deeply interested, the anxious 
manager was almost compelled to accept a host of utterly 
baseless reports sown broad-cast by their inventors, or at 
least to give them qualified credence. 

It must be confessed that he was in a difficult position. 
Unfortunately, his faith in Mdlle. Lind's reliance upon the 
judgment of Mrs. Grote had led him to expect a great deal 
more from that lady's influence upon the retiring Artist than 

T 2 

276 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. x. 

was warranted by the true circumstances of the case. Mrs. 
Grote herself writes, in her so-called " Eoad-book ": — 

" All January Lumley kept hoping that Jenny would 
rescind her resolution of withdrawing from the Stage, and 
that she would once more save his theatre from ruin. But 
she has stood to it — whereat he is dreadfully distressed. He 
conceives, too, that I have not acted zealously in his interest, 
because I have not pressed Jenny Lind to return to the 

" I certainly have not urged her to do so, feeling that she 
had a perfect right to take a season of rest ; and, in fact, I 
saw but too plainly how much she required it. 

" But, on the other hand, I do not believe that I could 
have prevailed upon her to recommence a season of fatigue, 
had I used all my endeavours to that end." 

This shows, plainly enough, how absolutely impregnable 
was the decision at which Mdlle. Lind had arrived. But it 
is evident that Mrs. Grote did not succeed in making the 
unhappy manager understand, so clearly as he ought to 
have done, how matters then stood. He believed that there 
was still room for hope ; and, harassed by anxiety, tor- 
mented by doubts of his own creation with regard to the 
unknown future, he followed the example of the public, and 
formed, on what he conceived to be "imdoubted authority,"* 
strange theories of his own, destitute of any sort of foundation 
in fact. We will not pause, however, to refute either the 
theories or the rumours, here, finding it more convenient to 
carry on the thread of our narrative of public events without 
interruption, than to invite confusion by commingling the 
Art-history of the season with the analysis of motives which 
can be better discussed when we speak of Mdlle. Lind's true 
reason for retiring from the Stage. 

Confining ourselves, then, to facts — the OjDera-House 
opened for the season, in 1849, amidst as rough a " sea of 

* ' Reminiscences of the Opera,' p. 228, note. 

1849.] THE LAST OPERA. 211 

doubts and perplexities," as that which had prevailed in 

" In this state of affairs," says Mr. Lumley, " subscribers, 
who had looked for Jenny Lind as the main attraction of the 
season, naturally hung back. Even the Court remained 
undecided. No box was to be taken for Her Majesty, the 
Queen, until it was known whether the great prima donna 
was, or was not, to appear upon the boards of Her Majesty's 
Theatre ; or, at all events, until a definite programme could 
be issued. Now, it was impossible for a director, while all 
was yet in abeyance, to put forward an official prospectus by 
which the future fortunes of the theatre were to stand or 
falL I could do no more than send out a written circvdar to 
the Court, the principal subscribers, and the press, detailing 
what my arrangements might probably, or possibly, be. 
And, while many of the principal frequenters of the theatre 
held on to the manager. ' through thick and thin,' many 
more looked on, and waited, asking — ' Is Jenny Lind to 

The prospect seemed a little brighter, when, on the 15th 
of March, the theatre opened with a performance of Eossini's 
La Cencrentola, in which Mdlle. Alboni sustained the prin- 
cipal part. The engagement of this charming singer caused 
a great revulsion of feeling in the manager's favour ; and the 
season opened under happier auspices than could fairly have 
been expected. But, the public would not be satisfied 
without the re-engagement of Mdlle. Lind ; and, before long, 
it was authoritatively announced — and, this time, with 
perfect truth — that Mdlle. Lind had positively determined to 
appear no more upon the stage. A hundred different reasons, 
all equally false, and equally unauthorised, were given for 
this determination — but, whatever the true reason might 
have been, the fact remained, that never again could the 
public hope to see its favourite upon the boards of Her 
Majesty's Theatre. 

» ( 

Reminiscences of the Opera,' pp. 231-232. 

278' • JENNY LIND. ^ [bk. vni. ch. x. 

Mr. Lumley was in despair. In face of the attractions 
offered at the rival establishment, this determination meant, 
for him, nothing short of irremediable disaster — of absolute 
ruin — unless he could stave off the evil day by a clever coup 
de main. As a matter of fact, he actually did effect this 
coup de main, not very long afterwards, by the engagement 
of the Contessa de' Kossi, formerly Mdlle. Sontag. With that 
stroke of policy we are, however, in no wise concerned. It is 
enough for us to know that Mdlle. Lind continued inexorable ; 
and that it was only after reiterated entreaties, that she 
consented to enter into an engagement for six " Grand 
Classical Performances," in which the music of her favourite 
Operas was to be sung, at a series of concerts, without the 
attractions of the stage. It was at first proposed that these 
performances should take place in Exeter Hall. But the 
objections to this place were insuperable. This condition, 
therefore, was afterwards waived ; and, in due time, it was 
announced in the managerial prospectus that Mdlle. Lind 
would sing in six concerts at Her Majesty's Theatre.* 

It would have needed but a very little calm con- 
sideration, to convince all concerned that a compromise such 
as this could not by any possibility succeed — that its failure 
was assured, beforehand. The experiment was, however, 
tried, on Thursday, the 12th of April, with Mozart's II Flauto 

" The concert," says Mr. Lumley, " consisted of a ' recital ' 
(as it would be called in modern musical phraseology) of 
Mozart's Opera, in its entirety, in the ordinary concert-form, 
without scenery, dresses, or decorations. 

" The result of the experiment was a perfect failure. 
Could it have been otherwise ? Any device to treat a lyrical 
drama as if it were not a drama, or, in other words, to cheat a 
theatrical representation of its necessary appliances, so as to 
evade the stage, could be nothing but a failure. The great 

* See Mrs. Stanley's letter, of Jan. 27, 1849, pages 259, 260. 

1849.] THE LAST OPERA. 279 

masterpiece of Mozart, without the essential accessories of 
scenery and action, without the illustrative resources which 
the composer himself contemplated, was simply rendered 
dreary and incomprehensible. 

" Where was the well-known ' Jenny Lind crush ' ? — The 
house was comparatively empty. 

" Where was the customary enthusiasm, amounting to a 
mania ? — The applause was cold, and feeble, 

" The singer, who had been accustomed to hear those same 
walls ring with plaudits, could not but feel chilled at the 
faint and rare echoes of the night, so different from the noisy 
demonstrations of the previous year. II Flauto Magico was, 
accordingly, the first and last of these disappointing ' Grand 
Classical Performances ' permission for wliich had been with 
so much difficulty wrung from Mdlle. Lind." * 

Though writing under the influence of evident and not 
unnatural chagrin, Mr. Lumley can scarcely be accused jof 
having put the case too strongly. 

We have said, in a former chapter, that Mdlle. Lind's 
histrionic talent was so completely under her command, that 
she was able, without an effort, to transfer it from the theatre 
to the concert-room, and to sing, in the Oratorio, with an 
effect as purely and as powerfully dramatic as that which she 
had previously produced in the Opera. We have shown that 
she had already exhibited this marvellous power, in Elijah, and 
The Creation.^ But, here, the conditions were very different 
Neither Elijah nor The Creation were ever intended to be 
performed upon the stage, like the earlier Italian Oratorios. 
Neither Haydn nor Mendelssohn had left any details to be 
filled in, so to speak, by the appliances of the theatre. They 
had expressed the exact amount of dramatic power their 
respective subjects demanded, in the music alone ; and had 
thus left no real impediment whatever in the way of its 
manifestation apart from the stage. But Mozart had not 
thus treated the libretto of H Flauto Magico. In setting it to 

* B. Lumley, in op. cit., pp. 243, 244. 

280 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. x. 

music, he had never, for a moment, lost sight of the fact that 
it was to be acted, as well as sung. And, apart from the stage, 
no amount of genius could have enabled any singer in the 
world to interpret his ideal to the audience in full perfection 
• — not because of the gigantic difficulties with which such a 
task would have been surrounded, but, because its fulfilment 
would have been logically impossible. The canons of Art 
stand upon too firm a basis to be violated with impunity ; 
and it is a canon of Art, invested with all the authority of a 
cardinal rule, that a great work can only achieve success, 
when presented to the public in accordance with its creator's 
preconceived idea — in fulfilment of his manifest intention. 
The pianoforte arrangement of an orchestral symphony gives 
but a poor faint shadow of its intended effect ; and an Opera, 
apart from the stage, casts a shadow fainter far than that of 
a symphony apart from the orchestra. 

And therefore it was that Mdlle. Lind's experiment broke 
(Jown — broke down so signally that no attempt was ever 
made to repeat it. All that could be done in the Concert- 
room she did ; but, unhappily, that " all " was not enough. 
She sang the music magnificently ; and the critics did her 
full justice in analysing her performance, as the following 
remarks will show : — 

"The first of the six 'Grand Classical Concerts' which 
have been for a long time announced, with the name of 
Mdlle. Jenny Lind as the point of attraction, took place, at 
Her Majesty's Theatre, last night. 

"The programme was entirely devoted to Mozart's cele- 
brated Opera // Flauto magico — Die Zauberflote — of which 
the greater portion was executed without curtailment or 
alteration. The opportunities of hearing the whole or any 
part of this fine work, which Beethoven regarded as the 
dramatic masterpiece of Mozart, are so rare in this country, 
that it was not surprising to see, among the aristocratic and 
fashionable habitues of Her Majesty's Theatre, who attended 
in large numbers (in spite of the serious character of the 

1849.] TEE LAST OPERA. 281 

music), a strong reinforcement of connoisseurs and professors, 
who are rarely attracted to the Opera except by some such 
classical inducement. In addition to Mdlle. Jenny Lind, 
Lablache, Coletti, Belletti, and other members of the operatic 
company were among the vocalists, besides those clever and 
popular concert-singers, the Misses Williams, who were en- 
gaged to give efficiency to the concerted pieces. The entire 
choral and instrumental forces of the theatre, under the able 
conduct of Mr. Balfe, were also employed, so that nothing 
was neglected to give due weight to the performance. The 
chorus was arranged upon the stage ; the principal singers 
sat in front ; and the band occupied its usual position in the 

" Mdlle. Lind, who was led on by Signor Lablache, was 
received with the heartiest applause. The share she took in 
the performance was a very arduous one. She sang no less 
than thirteen times, which, with three encores, made sixteen. 
Besides the whole of the music of Pamina, she sang one of 
the trying and difficult airs oi Die Konigin (" Astrafiammante, 
The Queen of Night ") ; and took part in most of the duets 
and trios. 

" Her first recitative and air, Non paventar, amabil figlio, a 
hravura demanding the highest executive powers — having 
been written by Mozart to show off the capabilities of a 
23rima donna of his time who possessed a voice of extra- 
ordinary flexibility and compass — was sung by Mdlle. Lind 
in the most brilliant style. The tours de force in the allegro, 
which lies continually in the higher range of the scale, were 
given with singular ease ; and the F in alt. — the terror of 
sopranos — touched without effort. The audience unfeelingly 
insisted upon a repetition of the movement, which Mdlle. 
Lind, however, instantly complied with, going through the 
whole of it a second time without the slightest evidence of 

" Her next solo — the Air of Pamina in G minor, Ali ! lo 
so piu non mavanza, one of the most passionate effusions of 
Mozart — was still more to our liking. In this, all those 
specialities of style in which Mdlle. Lind may be almost 
said to stand alone among the singers of her country were 
strikingly developed. The exquisite mezza voce accompanied 
by undeviating purity of intonation ; the j^ortamento carried 
to its highest perfection ; the simple and unadorned delivery 
of the text; and the chaste unaffected cadenza, so entirely 

282 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. x. 

in keeping with the music ; all combined to make a perfect 
example of expressive vocalisation. Another encore was 
inevitable ; but, this time, we could not blame the audience. 

" In the Duets, Trios, and Concerted Pieces, it is unneces- 
sary to say more than that Mdlle. Lind acquitted herself as 
an accomplished musician, to whom the text was thoroughly 
familiar. The popular Duet in E flat, La dove prc7ide Amor, 
with Coletti, was taken faster than we have been accustomed 
to hear it — faster, indeed, than Mozart intended ; and the 
same may be said of the Duettino in G, Fiede snello ardito 
cor, sung with Lablache ; but this may perhaps be the modern 
custom in Germany, where this Opera is constantly per- 
formed. The comic Duet for Mdlle. Lind and Lablache, 
Pa, pa, pa ! was sung to perfection by both artists, who 
entered freely into the spirit of the music. This also was 
enthusiastically redemanded. 

" The band and chorus had evidently received careful and 
judicious training. The overture was taken by Mr. Balfe in 
the most correct time, and was played A\ith striking energy 
and decision, the light and shade being observed with the 
greatest delicacy throughout. The March at the beginning 
of the Second Act was also admirably executed." * 

It is impossible to read these remarks, without a feeling of 
astonishment at the immensity of the mistake which, in spite 
of the splendid singing, had led to a result so disastrous that 
the bright prospects of the coming season were utterly 
annihilated. No one felt the bitterness of the position more 
keenly than Mdlle. Lind herself. She had sung so faultlessly 
that the critic of The Times had been completely disarmed ; 
so enthralled by the spell she cast over her audience, that, 
throughout the whole of his notice, he had not ventured to 
utter one single word of protest against the fatal mistake she 
had made. Yet, the signs of that mistake were patent to 
every one. For the first time, since her first great 
European triumph, she had failed to express her own 
ideal — not from lack of artistic power, but from lack of 
means external to it. How could the threatened ruin be 

* From The Times, April 13, 1849. : 

1849.] TEE LAST OPERA. 283; 

averted ? In one way only. She felt this, at once ; and, 
with a depth of self-renunciation well worthy of her generous 
character, she sacrificed the freedom which had so long been 
the desire of her heart, and permitted Mr. Lumley to make 
an official announcement, to the effect, that, " Although 
Mdlle. Liud had intended to take leave of the subscribers to 
the Opera, and the public, in a series of concerts, yet, as it 
had been urged that concerts would not be regarded as 
equally satisfactory, she had generously consented to 
suspend her intention of retiring from the stage, and would 
therefore appear in a few more performances." 

"What it must have cost her to make this resolution, we, 
who have seen her, year after year, longing for the moment 
at which she could free herself from the trammels by wliich 
she had been bound from her earliest childhood, can well 
imagine. But, she had pledged her word ; and though, as 
we shall see in a later chapter, there were advisers at hand 
who would gladly have tempted her to retract her promise at 
the last critical moment, she was strong enough to resist the 
sophistry of any argument that was urged upon her in the 
opposite direction, and, on the 26th of April, she set the doubts 
of the tortured manager at rest, and once more appeared 
upon the boards of Her Majesty's Theatre, in the character of 

The delight of the public surpassed all bounds. The sub- 
scribers forgot their late discontent, and appeared in crowds 
to welcome her on her reappearance. The house was filled to 
overflowing. Every incident connected with the now-familiar 
" Jenny Lind crush " was renewed at the doors. And even 
Mr. Lumley himself was satisfied with the enthusiasm 
manifested both by the occupants of the subscription boxes 
and the general public. 

" Many of the self-styled interpreters of public sentiment," 
he says, " pretended that the chain of sympathy which had 

284 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. x. 

attached her to the public had been too suddenly snapped 
asunder to be restored to its former strength ; that the tide 
of popular feeling, untowardly checked when it had reached 
to such an unprecedented height, had been diverted, and 
could never flow in the same channel again. But all these 
suppositions turned out to be utterly unfounded. Never had 
Jenny Lind been received with a more enthusiastic welcome, 
or with acclamation more fervent, from a house crowded to 
the ceiling, than on the night on which she returned once 
more to the stage. The scene of excitement was perhaps 
more agitating than any former scenes of bygone triumph. 
It seemed not only as though a favourite idol had been 
restored to the public, but as if a child, whom some difference 
had temporarily estranged, had been received back to the 
arms of its family. In truth, the emotion on both sides 
appeared equally profound. The evening was also signalised, 
it may be said en 'passant — for every other consideration 
seemed utterly swamped in the one exciting event — by the 
first appearance of Signer Calzolari, an excellent and most 
satisfactory young tenor, of what was denominated the good 
old school." * 

On the following day, the events of the evening were thus 
described, by the reporter to The Times, to the host of un- 
happy " outsiders " who were unable to obtain admission to 
the theatre : — 

" The scene presented in the Haymarket yesterday evening 
on the opening of the Opera doors was fully equal to that of 
the 4th of May, 1847, when Mdlle. Jenny Lind first made 
her debnt in London. Anxious groups were similarly placed 
about the Colonnade, watching the arrival of the long string 
of carriages ; and the visit of Her Majesty to the theatre 
increased, if possible, the general excitement. 

" Immediately the doors were opened, the pit and gallery 
were crammed to suffocation. The stalls and boxes were 
more gradually, but not less steadily filled ; and, before the 
curtain rose, the whole theatre was occupied. The reception 
of Mdlle. Lind, the shouts of applause which arose on every 
side, and the waving of handkerchiefs, were a sign that the 
enthusiasm which has held the pubUc for two seasons is still 

* ' Reminiscences of the Opera.' 

1849.] THE LAST OPEBA. 285 

in full force. The belief that Mdlle. Lincl had retired from 
the stage, and intended to sing at concerts only, which, after 
all, are but a frigid recreation as far as the habitues of the 
Opera are concerned, gave the significance of a debut to the 
reappearance last night. There was something like the 
delight that is felt at the recovery of a lost child, in the 
greeting with which the public received j\Idlle. Lind. 

"And she came back to them, in the fullest possession of 
those qualities which have made her immense reputation. 
There is no occasion to dilate on her performance of 'Amina' 
in La Sonnambula, for, if there is any one character in her 
repertoire that has lived in the memory of the London public, 
that is that part. But, last night, it seemed as if her voice 
had even improved, and as if she had acquired a more perfect 
command over her resources. Those high notes, so unrivalled 
in sweetness, and admitting the finest attenuation without 
losing a particle of their value, seemed to vibrate through the 
house with a clearness hitherto unknown. The sotto voce 
shake, which was always her favourite expedient, appeared 
more delicate than ever, and excited the old applause. In 
her ornaments she displayed new means of effect, and sur- 
prised her audience by the facility and brilliancy of her 
execution. Her acting was marked by that perfect identity 
with the character she represents which has always rendered 
her ' Amina ' one of the most remarkable impersonations on 
the stage. Her simplicity, as the happy village girl; her 
manner, half delighted, half terrified, when she is rather 
pleased by the compliments of the Count, and at the same 
time frightened lest they should arouse the jealousy of 
* Elvino ' ; and her last deep distress, when loaded with the 
weight of an imaginary guilt ; are as forcibly delineated as 

" Mdlle. Lind did not appear before the curtain, at the end 
of the Duet, Son geloso (when the drop is let down), though 
she was summoned with long and loud applause. She, how- 
ever, came forward, after the conclusion of the First Act, and 
twice, after the conclusion of the Opera, when Ah non giunge 
had been encored with rapture. She then appeared once 
more, leading on Calzolari, who was warmly cheered." * 

Five more appearances followed — one, in La Sonnambula, 
two, in Lucia di Lammermoor, one, in La Figlia del Beggi- 

* From The Times, April 27, 1849. 

286 JENNY LIND. [bk. vm. ch. x": 

onento', arid one, in Roherto il Diavolo — each one, in presence 
of a crowded audience, no less enthusiastic than that which 
had greeted the first of the series. 

Her Majesty and Prince Albert were among the first to 
welcome their favourite artist's return to the stage from 
which, as we have seen, she had told the Queen it was her 
intention to retire. As she was felt by them to act and sing 
even more exquisitely than she had done the previous season 
they hailed her appearance with deep satisfaction, not un- 
mingled with sadness, that the pleasure was one which 
could not often be repeated, as the singer's resolution to quit 
the operatic stage was now well known. Only once were 
they able to see the Figlia del Rcggimento — always a special 
favourite with the Queen. But they were present twice at 
the performance both of La Sonnamhula and L^icia di Lam- 
mermoor ; and on the 10th of May, they saw her, with much 
regret, for the last time upon the stage, in Roberto il Diavolo, 
the piece in which her acting and singing had, as already 
shown, first laid a strong hold upon their admiration.* 

The scene of the last farewell is thus feelingly described 
in the columns of The Times: — 

"During the whole of Mdlle. Lind's engagement this 
season there has not been so extraordinary a spectacle as 
was exhibited last night, when, as the bills stated, her ' Last 
Operatic Performance ' was to take place. 

" Although the announcement contained nothing to imply 
that she would not hereafter sing at concerts, the public 
thronged to Her Majesty's Theatre as if she were about to 
take her leave altogether, and they never were, under any 
circumstances, to see or to hear her again. And, indeed, the 
acting of Jenny Lind is such an essential element in her 
power of attracting the public, that, by quittmg the operatic 
boards, and becoming the mere concert-singer, she almost 
loses her identity. The difference of her reception when she 
sang at the ' Classical Concert ' from that when she re- 

* See foot-note t, page 71. 

1849.] THE LAST OPERA. 287 

appeared in La Sonnainbula must have struck anyone who 
witnessed the two scenes. Thougli the theatre was the same, 
and the bulk of the audience nearly the same, on both 
occasions, she was greeted in the character of 'Amina' just 
as if she had been making her debut, and the preceding 
concerts had never been given. Hence, the public, who 
thought that they were witnessing, for the last time, the 
combination of Jenny Lind the actress with Jenny Lind the 
vocalist, were not so much mistaken in giving all the force 
of a final interview to their visit last night. 

" Roberto il Diavolo, which, on the Italian stage, has never 
been very popular as a whole, but which has depended for 
its attraction on the ' Alice ' of Mdlle. Lind, was the Opera 
selected. The character in which slie first sang before a 
London audience was chosen as the one in which she was to 
take her leave. 

" Quando lascia la Normandia, with the immortal sotto voce 
shake which has so often astonished her hearers, drew down 
the accustomed encore ; and the clinging to the Cross, with 
terror in the shrink, and faith in the countenance, seemed 
even more striking than usual, as a display of histrionic 
power. The increased sweetness and fulness of her voice, 
this year, has been a theme of universal remark ; and never 
was it more melodious than last night. 

" The applause which she received at the conclusion of the 
Opera was something remarkable. She was called three 
times, by an audience that occupied even the obscurest 
nooks of the edifice, and that universally rose when slie 
appeared ; and so continuous were the plaudits, that they 
blended with each other into one roll of heavy sound. At 
the last call, she appeared, particularly moved. 

" During the early part of the Opera, there was a tumult 
in the house, occasioned by the crowd. 

" Her Majesty, Prince Albert, and the Duchess of Kent, 
honoured the theatre with their presence." * 

De Quincey reminds us, in describing a critical turning- 
point in his own strange life, of a remark of Dr. Johnson's 
to the effect that there is always a sadness in doing anything 
that we have been long accustomed to, avowedly for the last 
time, be the action never so trivial, or its surroundings never 

* From The Times, May 11, 1849. 

288 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. x. 

SO unfortunate. It is sad to gaze, for tlie last time, around 
the room in which, perhaps, the saddest moments of our lives 
have been passed ; to perform, for the last time, the task 
which has seemed to us the most wearisome, or the duty to 
which we have been least inclined, and thought the most 
irksome. With what feelings, then, did Mdlle. Lind see the 
curtain descend, for the last time, on that thrilling scene 
in Roberto il Diavolo, in which, as she herself narrated in 
after years, she " stood at the man's right hand, and the 
Fiend at his left, and all she could think of was, how to save 
him " ? "Was it really a heavy trial through which she had 
elected to pass ? Did she herself feel sad when the last 
note faded into silence, and Bertram sank through the trap- 
door into the fiery depths below ? Who can tell ? She never 
spoke of such a sadness, in after life. That the last round of 
applause, the last wild shout from pit and stalls and gallery 
and boxes, was absolutely nothing to her, we know well 
enough. It could not but be less than notliing. She was 
too well accustomed to it all. Since her first appearance in 
The Polish Mine, in 1830, the stage had won for her her daily 
bread. For her, the excitement, the romance, the glamour, 
the thousand enticing charms which fascinate so many prime 
donne had no existence. Her " first appearance " was a dim 
memory of childhood, bearing no analogy whatever to the 
intoxicating debut for which most young artists long, as the 
Peri longed for Paradise, at the precious period during which 
their thoughts ought to be exclusively devoted to study. To 
her, the stage, with its cold coulisses, and its ceaseless round 
of monotonous hard work, was as prosaic as the routine of 
the school-room to a jaded governess. The simile strikes 
home, for the stage had really been her school-room ever 
since she was ten years old. 

But there was another side to the question. However 
little she may have cared for fame, she cared very much 

i849.] THE LAST OPEBA. 289 

indeed for the Art to which she had devoted the best of all 
she possessed. And, for Art, in one of its purest and most 
perfect manifestations, the evening of the 10th of May 
was a very sad one. For, that last fall of the curtain put an 
end, for ever, to the- operatic triumphs of the most gifted 
actress-singer the nineteenth century had produced. Put an 
end to them, beyond all hope of renewal ; with the absolute 
certainty, impressed upon the minds of all who were present, 
that no subsequent change of circumstances would ever induce 
the Arch-Priestess of Song, whose genius had enthralled 
them as they had never been enthralled before, to reverse 
the decision at which she had then arrived. She wrote, in 
her engagement-book, " My last Opera-Eepresentation ''— 
"min sista Opera-Bepresentation "—and she meant it. There 
were to be no more " last nights," after the manner to which 
the "Opera-going public" were only too weU accustomed; 
no supplementary performances, " by special desire," to be 
succeeded, in the following year, by " twelve more last appear- 
ances," culminating in a "grand farewell," in wliich she 
would sing « positively for the last time." She had already 
sung "for the last time; " and all who had heard her knew 
it— knew her to be incapable of stooping to the falsehood of 
which too many of her sister-artists have been guilty— the 
falsehood of pretending to retire, when, in their heart of 
hearts, they had resolved to reappear, over and over again. 
¥o! Jenny Lind was made of other stuff than that;°and 
when that curtain feU, the world knew well that, as an 
operatic singer, she would be no more heard, or seen, for 


Truly, this last farewell performance was impressed vdth. a 
double significance, not easy to describe in words. For 
the great World of Art, no day so sad as this 10th of 
May, in 1849, had passed smce the 4th of November, in 
1847. She knew this weU— and she must have sympathised 



290 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. x. 

with those who so deeply and sincerely regretted her retire- 
ment. Yet, for her, it brought the freedom, the rest, the 
peace, that she had longed for, year after year, from the 
moment of her first triumphs in Art-loving Germany. 

How welcome that peace and freedom were, we can divine, 
from the early letters in which she told her friends how 
ardently she looked forward to her emancipation from the 
trammels of the stage. And a circumstance which happened 
on this last night must have gladdened her heart, so full of 
sympathy for her humblest fellow-workers. 

A little more than two months before her retirement, while 
she was still on her provincial tour, she had written to Mrs. 
Stanley : — 

" Wakefield, March 6, 1849. 

"I want to give concerts, here in the provinces, for 
Lumley's people, which I could do very quietly, and when I 
have got the sum I wish for, then place the money in the 
hands of my banker in London, to give to the choristers and 
most needy people at Her Majesty's Theatre, which they 
(Lumley and his friends) say that I have thrown out of 

" I suppose Lumley's vanity will not be satisfied with this 
proposal — but that is not my care. My wish is, to help the 
poor — voila tout. To sing religious words on the stage I can 
and will not." 

There is no record, in Mdlle. Lind's " Engagement-book," 
of any special concerts given, in the provinces, for " Lumley's 
people " ; but it is more than probable that a portion of the 
receipts of some of the general performances were applied to 
their benefit. Be this as it may, they possessed Mdlle. Lind's 
sympathy, in the warmest degree ; and returned it, with all 
their hearts. So devoted were they to her, that, on that last 
evening, when all was over, the members of the chorus pre- 
^nted her with a gold bracelet, on the inside of which was 
^graved :— 


1849.] THE LAST OPEEA. 291 





HER majesty's THEATRE 



MAY 10th, 1849. 

And so the last farewell was accompanied by a touching 
incident quite apart from the demonstration in which the 
outer world took a share ; and we may be very sure that 
Mdlle. Lind remembered it, long after the sound of the last 
round of applause had been forgotten ; and that she prized 
the simple jewel — now in the possession of her daughter — 
not a whit less dearly than the costly gems presented to her 
by the great ones of the earth. 

And so, with the presentation of this most delicate 
memorial, the fateful evening came to an end ; and with it, 
the operatic career of one whose name will live, in connection 
with the Musical Drama, as long as the Musical Drama itself 

* The following is the list of Mdlle. Lind's performances in England, 
during the seasons of 1848 and 1849 : — 
Those marked with + are charity concerts. See Vol. i., pp. 427-428. 

1848. May25(Th.) Liicia di Lammer- 

At Heb Majesty's Theatre. ^^ .^ . ^ 'moor. 

„ 60 (iu.) Lucia di Lammer- 

May 4 (Th.) La Sonnambula. moor. 

„ 6 (Sat.) La Sonnamhula. June 1 (Th.) Lticia di Lammer- 

„ 11 (Th.) La Figlia del Beg- moor. 

gimento. „ 3 (Sat.) Lucia di Lammer- 

„ 13 (Sat.) La Figlia del Reg- moor. 

gimento. „ 8 (Th.) UElisir d'amore. 

„ 16 (Tu.) La Sonnamhula. „ 10 (Sat.) EElisir d''amore. 

„ 18 (Th.) La Figlia del Reg- „ 13 (Tu.) Lucia di Lammer- 

gimento. moor. 

u 2 



[bK. VIII. CH. X. 

June 15 (Th.) La Sonnamlula. 

17 (Sat.) Lxcia di Lammer- 

moor. + 
22 (Th.) Boberto il Diavolo. 
24 (Sat.) Roberto il Diavolo. 
29 (Th.) La Figlia del Beg- 
July 1 (Sat.) VElisir d'amore. 
4 (Tu.) La Figlia del Beg- 

6 (Th.) La Sonnamhula. 
11 (Tu.) Lucia di Lammer- 
„ 13 (Th.) Le Nozze di Figaro. 
"„ 15 (Sat.) Le Nozze di Figaro. 

18 (Tu.) La Figlia del Beg- 

20 (Th.) La Sonnamhula. 
\ 27 (Th.) Lucia di Lammer- 

„ 29 (Sat.) / Puritani. 
Aug.l (Tu.) L Puritani. 
° 3 (Th.) I Puritani. 
5 (Sat.) L Puritani. 
10 (Th.) La Sonnamhula.' 
"„ 12 (Sat.) La Figlia del Reg- 

„ 15 (Tu.) I Puritani. 
, 17 (Th.) Lucia di Lammer- 

„ 19 (Sat.) La Sonnamhula. 
22 (Tu.) Lucia di Lammer- 
„ 24 (Th.) La Sonnamhula. 

Concerts in London. 

July 31 (Mon.) Concert for Bromp- 
toa Hospital. + 

Aug. 26 (Sat.) Concert for the 
Opera-Chorus. + 

Dec. 15 (Fri.) Elijah at Exeter 


In the Provinces. 

Sept. 5 (Tu.) Concert at Birming- 
7 (Th.) Concert at Liverpool. 

9 (Sat.) iwa'a at Manchester. 
11 (Mon.) La Sonnamhula at 

14 (Th.) La Sonnamhula at 
„ 18 (Mon.) Concert at York. 
20 (Wed.) La Sonnamhula at 
„ 23 (Sat.) Morning Concert at 

, 25 (Mon.) La Sonnamhula at 

„ 28 (Th.) iucia at Edinburgh. 
Oct. 2 (Mon.) La Figlia at Glas- 
4 (Wed.) La Sonnamhula at 

6 (Fri.) Concert at Glasgow. 

10 (Tu.) La Sonnamhula at 

„ 12 (Th.) L Puritani at Dub- 
„ 14 (Sat.) iai^/^Zm at Dublin. 
, 16 (Mon.) Lucia at Dublin. 
19 (Th.) La Sonnamhula at 
„ 21 (Sat.) Concert at Dublin. 
, 24 (Tu.) iai^i^Zia at Dublin. 
„ 27 (Fri.) Concert at Birming- 
„ 30 (Mon.) Concert at Brighton. 
Nov. 1 (Wed.) La Sonnamhula at 
„ 3 (Fri.) La Figlia I ! 1 1 ! I .' 1 
at Brighton. 
8 (Wed.) Concert at South- 
„ 10 (Fri.) Concert at Clifton. 
„ 13 (Mon.) Morning Concert at 




Nov.14 (Tu.) Concert at Exeter. 

„ 16 (Th.) Concert at Bath. 

„ 18 (Sat.) Concert at Clifton. 

„ 23 (Th.) Concert at Chelten- 

„ 27 (Men.) Concert at Glouces- 

„ 29 (Wed.) Concert at Leaming- 
Dec. 1 (Fri.) Concert at Oxford. 

„ 4 (Mon.) Concert at Leeds. + 
(For the Orches- 

„ 19 (Tu.) Concert at Manches- 
ter. +- (For the 

„ 21 (Th.) Concert at Manches- 
ter. + (For the 

„ 28 (Th.) Concert at Birming- 
ham. + (For the 
Queen's College 

At Her Majesty's Theatre. 
Apr.26 (Th.) La Sonnamhula. 
„ 28 (Sat.) Lucia di Lammer- 
May 3 (Th.) La Figlia del Reg- 
„ 5 (Sat.) La Sonnamhula. 
„ 8 (Tu.) Lucia di Lammer- 

„ 10 (Th.) Roberto il Diavolo. 
(" My last Opera-representation.") 


Concerts in London. 

Jan. 29 (Mon.) For Mr. Balfe. + 
Feb. 21 (Wed.) For Madame Dulc- 

ken. + 
April 3 (Tu.) The Creation, at 

Exeter Hall. + 
„ 12 (Th.) 11 Flauto Magico, 

at Her Majesty's 


In the Provinces. 
Jan. 6 (Sat.) Concert at Liverpool.+ 
(For the Southern 
Jan.22 (Mon.) ConcertatNorwich.+ 
(For Charity.) 

„ 23 (Tu.) Morning Concert at 
Norwich. + (For 
Feb. 2 (Fri.) Concert at "Worces- 
ter. 4- (For the 

„ 6 (Tu.) ZZ^ya/iatManchester. 

„ 8 (Th.) Elijah at Birming- 

„ 13 (Tu.) Concert at Hudders- 

„ 15 (Th.) Elijah at Liverpool. 

„ 26 (Mon.) Concert at Shrews- 

„ 27 (Tu.) Morning Concert at 
Mar. 1 (Th.) Concert at Derby. 

„ 6 (Tu.) Concert at Wake- 

„ 8 (Th.) Concert at Sheffield. 

„ 9 (Fri.) Concert at Notting- 

„ 12 (Mon.) Concert at Cam- 

„ 27 (Tu.) The Creation at 

„ 29 (Th.) TIw Creation at 

„ 23 (Mon.) Concert at Ply- 


In the Provinces. 

Aug. 16 (Fri.) Concert at Liver- 
„ 19 (Mon.) Messiah at Liver- 

Aug.21(Wed.) Departure 


Text, Vol. i., pp. 427, 428. 

294 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. xi. 



Our readers will naturally expect us, in summing up our 
history of Mdlle. Lind's performances upon the stage, to 
furnish them with some technical remarks upon the timbre 
and compass of her voice, and the " method " by aid of which 
she cultivated it. 

The voice was a brilliant and powerful Soprano, combining 
the volume and sonority of the true Soprano drammatico — to 
which class of voices it unquestionably belonged — with the 
lightness and flexibility peculiar to the more ductile and 
airy Soprano sfogato, with the characteristic tenuity of which 
it had, however, nothing in common. 

Its compass extended from B below the stave, to G on the 

fourth line above it — in technical language, from b to G ; 
that is to say, a clear range of two octaves and a sixth, as 
shown in the subjoined diagram : — 

I if) 




(a) The veiled notes in the middle register. 
(6) The brilliant head-voice. 

(c) The rjf which forms so striking a feature in Mendelssohn's Elijafi. 

(d) The rin^^ing up] er A, used with such thrilling effect in the opening 
movement of Casta diva. 

(e) The upper C forming, with the above-mentioned A, the initial 
passage in the Tanzlied ai(s Dalekarlien. 

(/) The F in alt, used by Mozart, in No7i paventar. 
(g) The six natural notes (C, D, E, F, G, A) in the youthful voice, to 
be presently described. 


1849.] THE " METEODr 295 

The various registers of this extended compass were so 
skilfully blended into one, by the effect of art, that it was 
impossible for the most delicate or attentive ear to detect 
their points of junction. In fact, after the completion of its 
cultivation under the guidance of Signer Garcia, the entire 
voice became one homogeneous whole, so even in its calibre, 
that the notes were avowedly sung without a thought as to 
the best way of " placing " them. 

Certain regions, however, possessed marked testhetic 
qualities, very clearly distinguishable, though they could be 
modified, at will, in accordance with the demands of the 
passages into wliich they were introduced. For instance, 
three notes of the middle register (the F, G, and A, shown at 
(a) in the diagram), were invested, in yiano passages, with a 
veiled tone of ra\dshing beauty — as in the long-drawn A, in 
the middle register, wliich forms the opening note of Casta 
diva. These three notes were more seriously injured than 
any other region of the voice, by the hard work and faulty 
method of production that had been forced upon Mdlle. Lind 
before her journey to Paris. It is well known to every 
experienced Maestro di Canto, that more voices are injured 
by the attempt to sing these three important notes in the 
lower instead of in the middle register, than by any other 
error of production whatever; and there can be no doubt 
that it was this error that caused so much trouble to 
Mdlle. Lind, who, notwithstanding the beautiful tone by 
which the notes in question were afterwards characterised, 
assured Froken Signe Hebbe* that she believed that they 
" never became quite right." 

Of the Fjf so much admired by Mendelssohn, the A above 
it, brought prominently forward in a syncopated passage in 
the same slow movement of Casta diva, and the same A, with 

* A dramatic singer at Stockholm, who lately published an account of 
her intercourse with Madame Goldschmidt, in a Swedish newspaper. 

296 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. xi. 

the C above it, used as the two first notes in the Tanzlied aus 
Dalekarlien, we have already spoken in former chapters. 

It was remarkable, that these exceptionally high notes, 
though brilliant beyond description, when used at their full 
power, could be reduced to a pianissimo as perfect as that of 
the veiled tones of the middle register. The pianissimo^ 
indeed, was one of the most beautiful features of Mdlle. 
Lind's singing. It reached to the remotest corner of the 
largest theatre or concert-room in which she sang ; it was as 
rich and full as her mezzo forte ; yet it was so truly piano 
that it fell upon the ear with the charm of a whisper, only 
just strong enough to be audible. The reader will not have 
forgotten that Her Majesty regarded this pianissimo as one of 
the most beautiful characteristics of Mdlle. Lind's singing, 
and that, in the letter we have quoted at page 209, Chopin 
spoke of its " charm " as " indescribable." 

A wholly different effect — though bearing a certain sort of 
analogy to this — was produced in the Norwegian Echo Song 
by a peculiar tightening of the throat, which Madame Gold- 
schmidt once tried to explain to the writer, though the 
process was so purely subjective that she said it was almost 
impossible to describe it in words. The effect produced so 
nearly resembled that of a natural echo, reverberated from 
the opposite wall, that it never failed to mystify an audience 
before which it was presented for the first time. 

The notes, C, D, E, F, G, A, marked {g) in our diagram, 
were noticed by Mdlle. Lind, at a very early period, as the 
best notes of her voice. And judging, from their position in 
the scale, that her voice was intended by Nature to develop 
into a Soprano of exceptional height, she practised these 
notes, with the semitones between them, more diligently 
than any others, with the full determination to extend the 
process until the tone of the remaining portions of the voice 
became as rich, as pure, and as powerful, as that of the six 

1849.] THE "method:' 297 

notes which she regarded as forming the fundamental basis of 
the whole. How fully she succeeded in carrying out this 
intention we know already ; and it is scarcely too much to 
say, that it was to this firm resolve, and the clear foresight 
which prompted it, that her ultimate success is mainly to be 

Mdlle. Lind's voice was not by nature a flexible one. The 
rich sustained tones of the soprano drammatico were far more 
congenial to it, than the rapid execution which usually 
characterises the lighter class of soprano voices. But this 
she attained also, by almost superhuman labour. Her per- 
severance was indefatigable. Among the Cadenze given in 
our " Appendix of Music " will be found one — No. 1 ; from 
Beatrice di Tenda, introducing a scale passage ascending 
chromatically to the upper E flat, and then descending in 
the same manner. She once, while at the zenith of her 
career, told Froken Signe Hebbe that she had practised this 
passage all her life, but that it was only quite lately that she 
had succeeded in satisfying herself with it ; adding, that she 
never allowed herself to indulge in singing such diflicult 
passages before the public, until she had thoroughly mastered 
them, but preferred simplifying them to running the risk of 
an imperfect rendering of the notes. 

Another remarkable feature in Mdlle. Lind's singing was 
the shake, which she delivered, at will, either with un- 
approachable brilliancy, or in the form of a whisper, more 
like the warbling of a bird than the utterance of a human 

Though it is necessary that a perfect shake should always 
begin with, and lay the metrical accent continuously upon, 
the written note, it is notorious that most shakes fail through 
want of attention on the part of the singer to the upper, or 
unwritten note. The general tendency is, to let this note 
gradually flatten, until, in very bad cases, the distance 



[bK. VIII. CH. XI. 

between the two notes is diminished from a tone, to little more 
than a semitone. So well is this fact known, that the late 
Mr. Cipriani Potter once told the writer how he had been 
taught, in his youth, to separate the notes so widely that a 
cocked hat could be thrown between them. Mdlle. Lind 
devised a cure for this corrupt delivery of the shake. In 
teaching, she hegan by impressing the upper note upon the 
ear, as the most important, both as to strength and duration ; 
leaning, as it were, upon it, and slurring up to it from the 
lower interval. She employed for tliis purpose, first, the 
leap of a fifth, then that of a fourth, and so on, until she 
reached the semitone, continuing the shake exercise between 
the two intervals, whatever their distance, for some time, 
before proceeding from the wider intervals to a lesser one \ 
always adhering to the upper note as the most important 
one ; and always making beginners practise it with extreme 

The following exemplification of this particular exercise, 
written, by herself, a few years ago, for the guidance of a 
young vocalist, has been found among her music : — 

(a) (6) 




• ^ '^ ua -LiT 

(a) {h) 

• .^ ^^ • 


At a later period of instruction, the notes marked (a) 
and (h) were to be omitted, and the succession of intervals 
blended into one continuous exercise, thus : — 

* Cf. vol. i., p. 115. 








But it was not until after considerable advance had been 
made, that the exercise was allowed to be sung with any 
degree of quickness. 

When, at last, after diligent practice, the perfect shake was 
attained, it was sung with the rhythmic accent on the real or 
written note, thus : — 





^ — m — ^ 1 — I — h— I — 1 — I — F=l — I- I I I — ) — ^—i — f- 

not thus : — 


-\ — I — [ — \ — I — I — I — I- 

The various effects we have here attempted to describe 
would have been impossible, but for that skilful manage- 
ment of the breath of which we have before had occasion 
to speak when treating of Mdlle. Lind's studies under the 
guidance of Signer Garcia. Her chest had not the natural 
capacity of Mdlle. Alboni's, or Signor Eubini's ; but she 
renewed her breath so rapidly, so quietly, so cleverly, that 
the closest observer could never detect the moment at which 
the lungs were replenished ; and, by the outside world, her 
extraordinary sustaining power was attributed to abnormal 
capacity of the lungs. It was to this sustaining power^. 

300 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. xi. 

wholly acquired by artful management of the breath, that 
she owed her beautiful pianissimo, and that marvellous 
command of the messa di voce which enabled her to swell 
out a crescendo to its utmost limit, and follow it, without 
a break, with a diminuendo which died away to an im- 
perceptible point, so completely covering the end of the 
note that no ear could detect the moment at which it faded 
into silence. 

And no less complete was Mdlle. Lind's command over 
the difficulties of articulation than over those of vocalisation 
pure and simple. Her delivery of the difficult — we had 
almost said, impossible — passage in the grand Scena from 
Der Freischutz — Tduscht das Liclit des Monds mich nicht ! * — 
though so clear and distinct that not a syllable lost its full 
meanino- was nevertheless so soft and smooth that it could 
scarcely have been surpassed in Italian. We do not hesitate 
to say that she was the only great singer by whom we have 
heard this famous crux surmounted without a trace of harsh- 
ness in the delivery of the words. On one occasion Madame 
Birch-Pfeiffer left her, alone, practising the word zersplittre 
("to shiver to pieces"), on a high B flat, in the opening 
Eecitative in Norina ; and, returning several hours after- 
wards, found her still practising the same word. And she 
continued to practise it, until she succeeded in pronouncing 
it quite perfectly on the high note, though few even of the 
best German vocalists attain a better pronunciation than 
zerspldttrc. But she never erred in the delivery of even the 
most difficult word in any language whatsoever. So perfect 
was the mastery she exercised over larynx, throat, lips, 
tongue, teeth, soft palate, each and all, that never a syllable 
was stifled at its birth, never a vowel-sound corrupted in 
its passage through the longest groups of mingled leap, 
arpeggio, or scale. It was this high quality that lent so 
* " Does not the li2:lit of the moon deceive me ! " 

1849.] THE " METHOD." 301 

potent a charm to the complicated " divisions," the rapid 
passages of jioritura of which Lablache, in describing them 
to Madame Grisi, said that " every note was a pearl." The 
purity of the vowel-sound, by which the pearls were strung 
together, secured their perfect equality of tone and timhre ; 
and, whether the most rapid notes were sung legato, or 
staccato, they either ran on velvet, or rang out sharply and 
clearly as the touch of a mandoline. The technique, in either 
case, was absolutely faultless, and its perfection was entirely 
the result of hard work, indefatigable practice, unwearying 
study. To the end of her career, she never sang in the 
evening without preparing for the performance by practising 
for a long time, earlier in the day — generally, a mczza voce, 
to avoid fatiguing the voice unnecessarily, but^never sparing 
the time or trouble. And herein lay the secret of her victory 
over difliculties which tempt so many less courageous aspirants, 
to despair. 

Undoubtedly, the " method " thus diligently cultivated was,, 
in many points, subjective. Mdlle. Lind felt, but could not 
always explain, the principles upon which she worked. We 
possess, however, a letter written by her to Fraulein von 
Jaeger, which enters into some particulars connected with 
our present subject of consideration, so curiously interesting, 
that we cannot refrain from publishing them, though the 
communication bears a date far later than that at which the 
purely narrative portion of our work comes to a close. 

" Ems, June 8, 1855. 

" And what is my good Gusti doing ? Is she working as 
industriously as ever at her singing ? 

" The chief thing that I have to say, to-day, concerns that 
part of Friedrich Schmitt's ' Singing-school ' of which you 
wish for an explanation.* 

* ' Grosse Gesang-Schule fiir Deutscliland,' von Friedrich Schmitt 
(Miincben, 1854) ; a work of which Madame Goldschmidt thought so 
highly, that she permitted her testimonial to be printed in connection 
with it. 


302 JENNY LIND. [bk. vm. ch. xi. 

" I do not think you have rightly understood the point. 
Eead the paragraph again, and it will surely become clearer 
to you. 

" Naturally, he does not mean that you are to attack a 
note twice ; but that, before you sound the note, the larynx 
must be properly prepared in the position in which the forth- 
coming sound lies, whether high or low. The result of this 
is a firm attack ; and, as soon as you have sounded one note, 
you must spring so nimbly on all those above — or below it — 
that no rift can be detected between the sounds ; and, in this 
way, the completion of the phrase is accomplished without a 
break. For instance, the notes 



must so hang together that they make one whole ; and this re- 
sults from binding and striking them, at one and the same time 
— if I may so express myself — though it is almost impossible 
to explain this clearly in words. But I have often spoken to 
my Gusti about this, and shown it to her. It lies in the 
flexibility of the larynx, and must therefore be practised. 
Sing your exercise, then, so that this flexibility of the throat 
may be quickly developed. The attack of the single notes 
will thus be improved ; and the string of notes will follow." 

Madame Goldschmidt is quite right, when she says that " it 
is almost impossible to explain this clearly, in words." No one 
knew, better than she did, that the best ' Singing-schools ' that 
ever were published are useless without the aid of a teacher ; 
for until she found a teacher in Signer Garcia, she wandered 
daily farther and farther from the true paths, until, in the 
end, her voice but narrowly escaped from utter destruction. 
When once the truth was pointed out to her, her quick per- 
ception and unerring musical instinct enabled her to grasp 
it at a glance ; and, when once she began to practise upon 
true principles, the difficulties she had formerly experienced 
■^vith regard to the method of voice-production were at an end. 

On one point she always insisted very strongly. She had 

1849.] TEE "METHODS 303 

an innate hatred of the contortions with wliich so many 
vocaKsts of inferior order disfigure their features when de- 
livering the passages they wish to render most impressive. 
She was never satisfied with a song, unless the singer 
" looked pleasant." She regarded singing as a beautiful gift 
of Nature ; a gift for which those who possess it should feel 
truly thankful, and proclaim their thankfulness by the 
expression of their features. She had a horror of careless 
articulation, even in speaking. And she felt firmly persuaded 
that the practice of singing, on the true " method," tended to 
the invigoration of the body, and especially of a weak chest. 
She even thought that the lives of many persons with a 
tendency to consumption might have been prolonged, if they 
had learned to breathe, and sing, in the right way — an 
opinion which is held by many medical authorities of highest 
reputation, and the correctness of which is undoubtedly 
proved by recorded facts. 

So deeply penetrated was Madame Goldschmidt with love 
for her Art, and faith in its ennobling influence, that, to 
the end of her life, she took the keenest interest in pro- 
moting its instruction, upon the true and w^ell-tried principles 
of the pure Italian School. 

The following letter to the late Mr. H. C. Deacon, in 
whose method of instruction she felt great confidence, is one 
of the last she wrote upon the subject : — 

"Wynd's Point, Colwall, Malvern, July 31st, 1885. 

"Dear Mr. Deacox, 

" It was very kind of you to let me know about 
the Examinations.* I am glad to hear that my sheep did 

not badly. If would put her mind into her work she 

might become a singer. 

" I can but do my best ; and, with my enormous experi- 

* At the Royal College of Music, where Madame Goldschmidt was then 
directing the training of the female vocal scholars. 

304 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. xi. 

ence, and a life's study, I ought to be able to bring out 


" Singing is as much moral and mental as it is mechanical. 
It is the combination of those qualities which alone can 
form the master and pupil, 

*'I hope you and Mrs. Deacon are better, and that you 
will now have some rest. 

" Yours sincerely, 


We can scarcely close our present chapter more profitably 
than by presenting our readers with a detailed summary of 
the work performed by Mdlle. Lind, in connection with the 
Operatic Stage, between her first appearance in Der Freischutz, 
on the 7th of March, 1838, and her last, in Bohcrto il Diavolo, 
on the 10th of May, 1849 — a period of little more than 
eleven years, during which she appeared before the public, 
in thirty Operas, 677 times. 

































■a to 




La Sonnambula (Bellini) j 
Lucia di Lammermoorf 

(Donizetti) .... 
Norma (Bellini) . 
Moberto il Diavolo (Meyer-j 

beer) / 

La Figlia del Eeggimento) 

(Donizetti) . . . ./ 
Der Freischiitz (Weber) . 
Divertissement Nationale\ 

(Berwald) . . . ./ 
Das Feldlager in 8chlesien\ 

(Meyerbeer). . . ./ 
A May Day in Wiirend) 

(Berwald) . . . ./ 
Die Zauberflote (Mozart) . 
22 Don Giovanni (Mozart) 
Le Nozze di Figaro (Mozart) 
Marie (He'rokl) . . . 
La Vestale (Spontini) 
Les Huguenots (Meyer-"t 

beer) j 

Die Schweizer FamilieS 

CWeigl) / 

Furyanthe (Weber) . 
La Straniera (Bellini) . 
II Turco in Italia (Kossini) 

zetti) / 

I Paritani (Bellini) . 
Ferdinand Cortez (Spontini) 
Jaggdr i Kloster (Ber-j 

wald) / 

Le Chateau de Montenero\ 

(Dalayrac) . . . ./ 
Armida (Gluck) . 
Anna Bolena (Donizetti). 
La Gazza Ladra (Kossini) 
I Masnadieri (Verdi) . 
Tlie Elves (Van Boom) . 
Semiramide (Kossini). 

Total number of Operas . 




























• • 



• • 

• • 


■ • 
• • 





• • 

• • 



■ • 



■ a 

• • 

• • 
■ • 




• • 






• • 

• • 
■ • 





jr c 




































806 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. xii. 



Sweden remained ever the veritable home to which Jenny 
Lincl's heart turned with the affection which is given to 
no other land but that in which one first draws living breath. 
" One's heart is in one's own country," she once wrote to an 
old friend, in her later years, at the time of a visit of the 
Crown Prince of Sweden to London, " and mine, certainly, 
is Swedish to the very backbone of my body and soul." 

It was, again, in Germany that she found the home of her 
artistic spirit. There the music in her kindled into its 
fullest life. There she breathed the air in which her art 
knew itself to be in its native dwelling-place. 

But England was to become the home of her adoption, in 
whose soil she was to take root. There she was to build 
herself a home ; to see her children and her grandchildren 
grow up about her ; and there she was, at last, to find her 

And we may well stop, therefore, at the close of our 
account of her appearances in England, to take note of 
that which drew her, especially, to view this country with 
favour and affection, and to cast a glance, both backward 
and forward, over those social and domestic ties which now 
already began to knit her fast to those friends among whom, 
in after days, she found such intimate companionship. 

In doing this, we are still loyal to our purpose of recording 
the Artist-life of Jenny Lind ; for we have already, at the 

1849.] FF^IENDS IN ENGLAND. 307 

outset of her career in Stockholm, shown how closely and 
peculiarly her personal character entered into her artistic 
effect ; how impossible it was to dissociate the one from the 
other. The genius which showed itself in her song, was 
identically the same which discovered itself in her private 
intercourse. Whether off the stage or on it, it was the same 
characteristic personality, which spoke in every detail of her 
natural life, and was felt alive behind or within every note 
of her voice. It is essential, therefore, to her portraiture as 
an artist that she should be known as a woman. 

And it is, perhaps, just here that we find something of the 
secret of that attachment which drew her towards the 
English and the English towards her. For, as a people^ 
we find it difficult to enter that region in which Art,, 
as such, is supreme. We are not good at abstraction ; we 
cannot isolate this or that department of life, and treat it in 
independence of its concrete environment. This taxes too 
much our faculty for ideas, which is seldom rich or strong. 
We move heavily and wearily in that atmosphere in which 
men regard Art for Art's sake, and in which they forbear to 
go outside the limits which Art builds for itself. We cannot 
foro-et what is outside those gossamer barriers. We cannot 
ignore the effects that the Beautiful may have on all the varied 
elements that go to make up man. We cannot, as we yield 
to the fascination of charm, silence the importunate desire 
to know how it tells on conduct. It is for this, perhaps, 
that we succeed so badly in those fields of Art where pure 
beauty, as such, is paramount, while we put out our best 
strength into Poetry, which, in all its highest forms, is pro- 
foundly concerned with moral conduct. This English habit 
of mind is apt to tumble into blundering misjudgment of 
much that vitally belongs to the Artistic temper, its work, 
and its methods. It does not take Art seriously, unless it 
can relate it to moral and religious considerations. In itself, 

X 2 

308 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. xii. 

apart from these deeper motives, it is apt to treat it as a 
mere pastime, a toy, a decoration. But when it is in face of 
one who, like Jenny Lind, illuminates the seriousness of the 
artist with the inspiration of a pure and noble woman- 
hood, and with the spiritual fervour of one who holds her 
gifts as a mission from God, then the English people can 
see and understand what is going forward. They may not 
duly estimate " the incredibly hard work " which, as she 
herself said, can alone account for the perfect skill and 
finish of her workmanship. For a true appreciation of that, 
she had to turn to Berlin, Leipzig, Vienna, or the Ehine. But, 
then, she had a peculiar power of retaining her natural 
spontaneity dominant over her skilfulness. The " incredibly 
hard work" disappeared from out of public observation, 
to reappear in a song which flowed out with all the ease, 
freedom, and felicity of a bird's carolling. 

And so the effect told straight home on the English public, 
and they surrendered themselves to her magic with an 
intensity which belongs to a strong and reserved people 
who find it difficult to yield, but, when they yield, yield 
altogether. Mendelssohn was a good prophet when he 
assured her that she would find in England a welcome of 
quite peculiar warmth — a welcome that would recognise the 
special tone of her character. And, in return, she responded 
to this welcome with enthusiasm. In spite of the ugly 
incident which beclouded her early appearances, and which 
revealed to her the coarse grain of a manager like Mr. Bunn, 
and the passionate malice that agitated much of the operatic 
world in London, she became exceedingly happy here. " I 
am charmed, quite beyond words, with England," she wrote 
from Clairville, in July, 1847, to her dear friend Madame 
Wichmann. She made friends quickly ; and she loved the 
friends she made. And it is of these that we would now 
speak. For it is in them that we shall see how it was 


that, in spite of much that she herself had to complain of 
in us, — in spite of our stupid practicality, our insensibility 
to artistic ideals, our coldness of manner, our sunless skies, — 
she yet found here in England a temper that responded to 
her aspirations, and gave full and encouraging scope to her 

Let us take a look at one or two circles which will 
specially illustrate the attachments which she formed at this 

We have already heard much of her alliance with Mrs. 
Grote, whose friendship for her played a large part in 
her earliest days among us. The Grotes were fascmated 
by her; and they devoted themselves to chaperoning her 
through that brilliant London Society into which she had 
been plunged. Mrs. Grote was in the very heart of the 
literary and musical world. At her house might be found 
Mendelssohn, Chopin, Thalberg, Lablache. Her husband, 
the historian of Greece, was in intimate contact with the 
cliief ^Titers, and thinkers of the day — with John Stuart 
Mill, Cornewall Lewis, Milman, Sydney Smith. All that was 
moving would be heard of, and touched, in the circle into 
which Mrs. Grote introduced her new friend ; and she 
was only too eager to take her everywhere and show her 

But that new friend was singularly unlike her busy 
chaperone. She loathed the bustle and glitter of the big 
world. She shrank from the public gaze; she could not 
endure to be made an object of curiosity. Nor, indeed, could 
the tempers and minds of the two women have ever fallen 
closely together. Nothing could be more remote from Jenny 
Lind's estimates of life than the ideas and principles which 
reigned in that house. George Grote was the intellectual 
pupil of James Mill ; he was the depository of the traditions 
of Benthamism. He was a stiff political economist of the 

310 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. xir. 

abstract school ; an ardent republican, a hater of churches 
and creeds. He professed that dry and tough Utilitarianism, 
which holds Idealists cheap. His wife was a woman of keen 
and strong intellectual character, delighting in the stir of 
men and things ; a forcible figure in the tliick of the thronging 
world of cultivated society. 

With such intense difference of atmosphere, it is greatly to 
the credit of Mrs. Grote's kindness, that she succeeded in 
making Jenny Lind so pleased with her intimacy. She 
evidently threw herself in, heart and soul, with her young 
friend's fortunes ; she put her house at her disposal ; she 
advised and directed her ; she gave up her time to her ; she 
listened to her confidences ; she introduced her to her many 
acquaintances ; she took her rides and picnics to Wimbledon, 
and gave her the free run of the Burnham Cottage, where she 
could wander freely in the woods, and freshen her voice. 
She accompanied her on provincial tours, and encompassed 
her about, in the midst of that hurrying and exciting turmoil, 
with pleasant companionship. To one, like Jenny Lind, who 
was besieged by fears, and suspicions, and dismays, and 
needed always to feel the succour of friendly advice close 
at hand, it was everything to have such a constant and 
kindly refuge to turn to, as Mrs. Grote's house. And that 
house held in it, also, the presence of one, whose faithful 
loyalty to her service was invaluable. Edward Lewin, Mrs. 
Grote's brother, was one of the best and truest friends she 
ever possessed. He was already well known to her through 
his sister, Madame Koch, at Stockholm. It was at his house 
there, that she had appeared in the Tableaux Vivants, as St. 
Cecilia. It was he who went to A^ienna, to persuade her to 
venture on the English journey ; and now that she w^as come, 
he patiently attended to her interests ; he looked after her 
affairs ; he did everything for her that a wise and good man 
could, in the way of kind-hearted direction, and supervision ; 


and always with a reserved and unobtrusive devotion, that 
was as delicate as it was true. He must have done more 
than any one to smooth her path, and to save her from 
trouble and blunder, during those two years in England ; and 
his friendship remained a constant source of comfort and 
strength to her. 

Such was the circle into which she came at the start. 
But she was very soon to find her way into another home of 
a very different type, where she passed under influences 
which affected her whole life, and character. She was 
engaged to sing at Norwich in the September of 1847 ; and 
in the preceding July she got the letter of invitation, 
wliich has already been given,* from the Bishop of Norwich 
in which he expresses his desire " to make acquaintance with 
one whose liigh character and principles were on a par with 
her superior talents." In those days, such an invitation 
to one who was engaged at the Opera, was remarkable 
enough. English society, and especially, English religious 
society, was strangely and stupidly conventional, bound up 
in rigid formularies of etiquette. The Bishop's act was a 
striking evidence of the unique position which Jenny Lind 
had already, from the very beginning, assumed. And it 
proved to be much more than this. It was an introduction 
into a household, where she found that affectionate and 
intimate environment which was so dear to her. Bishop 
Stanley brought to her the watchful care of a father ; Mrs. 
Stanley gave to her a motherly devotion, to which she could 
entrust her tenderest confidences. And, then, there was 
Mary Stanley, the daughter, her close friend for years, full of 
character and interest; and there was Arthur Penrhyn 
Stanley, the son, whose enthusiasm for her was the spring of 
an enduring intimacy, which lasted until his death, in the 
Deanery at Westminster, in 1881. 

* Cf. p. 1G2. Book VII. Cb. XIII. 

312 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. xii. 

Nothing can better illustrate the character of Jenny Lind 
than the many records which the Stanleys have left of those 
her earliest visits to them ; and we have, therefore, drawn 
largely upon them ; for, in them, we obtain a living estimate 
— an estimate formed by those whose judgment we can 
securely trust ; and recorded, at the very time itself, with all 
the frankness and the freedom that belong to a private cor- 
respondence — of the effect which her presence produced on a 
sensitive and sympathetic family. 

We have read abeady, the letter in which Arthur Stanley 
describes, with delicious freshness, her first arrival, in Sep- 
tember, 1847.* In that letter, everything has been said, that 
could make vivid the personal impression she produced. We 
will notice, here, but one little matter in it ; and that is, the 
startling comparison of her smile to that of Dr. Pusey. The 
comparison, would, no doubt, have surprised no one more 
than herself. But even those who only knew the face of the 
great Oxford Doctor, in extreme old age, would understand at 
once the allusion, as they recall the sudden lift of those grey 
eyebrows, and the beaming kindliness of the fatherly out- 
look from under them, that lit up the whole countenance as 
with an illumination. 

The letters from Mrs. Stanley to Mrs. Augustus Hare, 
already quoted in pages 162, 258-60, are the sufficient evidence 
of the footing which Jenny Lind won in the heart of the 
family. She passes, at once, within the circle of their house- 
hold affections. Mrs. Stanley is captivated by " the modesty 
which is so combined with dignity that it keeps her per- 
fectly zmruffled." Modesty is so apt to be combined with 
a personal consciousness, which makes it awkward and 
anxious and feverish. But here was a modesty which never 
was really ruffled ; for, to her, there was no anxiety as to her 
personal worth : the worth was wholly moral, and, therefore, 

* Cf. p. 170. Book Vir. Ch. XIV. 


independent of external estimates : it permitted of no fluc- 
tuating hesitation : it could not fret itself into a fever over 
what other people might be thinking of it. This gave her 
the calm of a dignified reticence. But modest, indeed, she 
was in the entire absence of personal ambition or assertion— 
in her genuine loyalty to the phrase which so interested 
Mrs. Stanley, in the midst of the fuss and excitement which 
surrounded her, " Moi qui veut toujours etre la derniere." 

Here, then, in this household, she kindled an interest, and 
estabKshed an intimacy, which had lasting effects upon her 
future. On the 28th of September, the Bishop wrote a 
farewell letter to Jenny Lind, which marks the depth and 
reality of the friendsliip which these few days had been enough 
to seal. It will reveal how profoundly the influences, then 
set moving, entered into the secret places of her life. The 
letter accompanied portraits of himself and his wife= 

" My dear Miss Lind, — 

" I am well aware that it is with you a general rule 
not to accept presents; but I persuade myself that the 
enclosed two portraits will be received as an exception, and 
that when restored to your relatives and friends in your 
native land, you will, in looking upon them, recall to mind 
one whose interest in your welfare has been increased tenfold 
during the few short days you were his guest. 

" Believe me, it will be my earnest prayer that, in the high 
and perilous position in which you are placed, the God 
whom you so devotedly serve -with such humility and sim- 
plicity, may ever bless and protect you, and enable you to 
carry out more and more the objects you have at heart. 
Under His guidance, go on and prosper. You have left us ; 
but we shall never forget you, and I look forward with deep 
interest to the time when I again may meet you, as one who 
has gained the affections of every member of my family : and 
when I may have further conversation with you on the 
many subjects of vital importance on which I would willingly 
have spoken more at large when you were with us. Believe 

^®' " Yours, very sincerely, 

" E. Norwich." 

314 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. xii. 

There was another Bishop, a guest in the palace at the 
time, who both received, and gave, a vital impression. A 
year and a half later when she returned to Norwich she spoke 
of the many things said to her by the Bishop of Tasmania, 
which she had not understood at the time, but had seen the 
truth of since. His words had clung about her : and they 
had evidently been on the deep matters of life. And if he 
had impressed her, she, certainly, in those brief four days, 
had profoundly stirred him. A letter written to her by him 
in July, 1849, from Hobart Town, Tasmania, is a touching 
revelation of the way in which her memory lived with him, 
amid interests so remote, and so alien. He begins by 
telling her of his difficulty in addressing her ; for he can no 
more call her " Miss Lind " than he would speak of " Mr. 
Shakespeare," or "il/r. Milton." 

" They are names endeared to English people. And so 
with you. We know you, esteem you, admire you, and talk 
of you, as ' Jenny Lind.' By that name the poor bless you ; 
anci the rich regard you as one who has by her noble example, 
exalted at once her profession and herself. By that name 
you are known even in this distant part of the world, 16,000 
miles away from your own home. . . . You have had a rare, 
a most rare gift from God. And He has given you the 
grace to use it, not merely for your own profit, or the delight 
of others, but for the suffering children — even as He would 
have you use it. . . . We may never meet again ; but believe 
me, dear friend (if I may call you so), I shall never forget 
you though half the world lies between us, and though it is 
scarcely possible that I may be permitted to see your face 
again on earth." 

After telling her much of his difficulties in work amid a 
Convict Colony, and after hoping that she yet may write him 
news of herself, he ends : — 

" May God's blessing be upon you ! may He guide you in 
all your ways, and be both your counsellor and comfort! 
A Bishop's blessing, dear friend, will be none the worse 


loecause it has to travel over half the world before it reaches 

" Believe me, 

" Most sincerely your friend, 

" F. E. Tasmania." 

In January, 1849, she was once again at the Palace at 
Norwich. She had come, as we remember, to sing entirely 
for charities ; and it was at this time that she was so character- 
istically unwilling to receive the gifts so carefully prepared 
for her by the six Norwich manufacturers. She made the 
Bishop express her mind to the unfortunate six ; but it 
turned out in the course of time, that the Bishop had been 
as bad as the rest ; for he too had got his present for her. 
Mrs. Stanley pictures the scene in another letter to her sister. 

" She did look so delighted to be here, and when some- 
b)ody hoped that she would not forget the step up into the 
library, said, ' Oh, I have forgotten nothing ! ' I took her 
to her room where the Swedish Bible was open on her 
-dressing-table with the texts inscribed in the Bishop's best 
hand. She bent down to read them earnestly ; and then 
opened the book at various places ; and, then, she returned 
to the texts, and went slowly over them, drawing her finger 
emphatically under the words ' The Lord preserve thy going 
out and thy coming in, etc.,' then she broke out into some- 
thing like Arthur at the Pyrenees, ' What shall I do ? What 
shall I do ? '" 

The following letter, dated on Christmas Day, 1848, 
accompanied the gift : — 

"Palace, Norwich, December 25, 18i8. 

" My dear Mdlle. Lind, — 

"I wish, on this day sacred and dear to the whole 
Christian world, to request your acceptance of the Book which 
•contains all Christian truth. 

" I cannot for a moment doubt that you have already found 
therein the principles, and motives, and Divine assistance, 
•wliich have enabled you hitherto so successfully to withstand 

316 JENNY LINB. [bk. viii. ch. xii. 

the snares and temptations of a profession so peculiarly- 
dangerous to one so young, and I most earnestly hope it may 
be ever more and more your guide and companion in the 
more tranquil life and leisure now I trust before you. 

" I have watched your course long, and it was because I 
saw in it so many Christian graces that I sought your ac- 
quaintance, both to pay a just tribute to them, and to com- 
municate with you, as one who had your truest interest at 
heart ; and if any word I may have said on serious subjects 
has had weight or influence with you I am more than 

" That you may persevere to the end in generously devoting 
your best gifts to the happiness and relief of your fellow- 
creatures is the earnest hope and prayer of 

" Yours, faithfully and sincerely, 

" E. Norwich." 
" Mdlle. Lind." 

Below the Bishop's signature in the Bible, he had written 
out the selected verses, Psa. cxxi. 7, 8, and Phil. i. 9, 10.* 

It is worth while to give all this in detail, in order that we 
may understand at what level her friendship with the family 
was pitched. The Bible, with its texts, and its graceful 
letter, is an index of the depth and the force of the influences 
which drew her to the Stanleys, and they to her. As we 
hear of these little tendernesses, as we read the strong words 
of commendation, as we follow Mrs. Stanley's affectionate 
transmission of it all to her listening sister, we can measure 
what it meant to Jenny Lind to be encompassed with all 
the home intimacies which she held so dear, and, above all, 
to find that those intimacies of the heart were so closely 
concerned with the spiritual fortunes of the soul. She 
thoroughly sympathised with this high language, which held 
the religious interests of life so near to the surface, and 
inwove them into the common texture of daily intercourse. 

* " The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil, etc." — Psalm cxxi. 7, 8. 
" And this I pray, that your love may abound, etc." — Philippians i. 9, 10. 


It was a house entirely to her raincl, with its warm sym- 
pathies, and its simple, earnest pieties. We shall find 
ourselves again witliin the circle of tliis Norwich household, 
as we deal with the agitating period of her great decision to 
abandon the stage. In the meantime, its present record will 
close pleasantly with Mrs. Stanley's report to her sister at 
the end of this visit. 

" Her future will be most interesting to watch. There is 
such a depth of veneration in her, such a reverence for all 
that is holy, such capabilities of love and devotion. She said 
she had no wish to make more friends, she had enough ; and 
her manner is that of preventing any intimacy. One very 
remarkable thing, which did not strike me till afterwards, is 
that she treats her superiors as we do royalty — never originates 
anything, never speaks first, never comes to sit dowTi by you. 
To her equals and inferiors nothing could be more courteous 
or frank. She never speaks of herself, never appears to 
think of herself; she has just that self-forgetting earnestness 

about everything, which is the desideratum in ■ . I was 

glad, however, to hear her say that though she never kept a 
journal, her memory was strong, and that there was nothing 
that had ever happened to her of which she had not a most 
distinct recollection. To some one who was speaking of the 
world she said, 'The world is one great lie.' Yesterday, 
Mr. Eichmond, the artist, dined here ; and it was beautiful 
to hear him speak of her ; it was just with that same appre- 
ciation of the peculiar charm of her character and countenance 
that Mr. LawTence had ; but he said that he would himself 
shrink from the attempt to paint her .... 

" All our previous impressions of her have been confirmed, 
and all change in her is for the better." 


The happy circle at Norwich was broken up, in the year 
1850, by the death of the Bishop ; and though the rest of the 
family remained her constant friends for life, she lost the 
quiet home by the cathedral which she loved. 

We venture to close this Norwich episode with the follow- 
ing words, written by her some time later, on hearing the 
news of the Bishop's death. They occur in a letter to a very 

318 JENNY LIND. [bk. viii. ch. xii.. 

dear friend of hers, Madame Salis-Schwabe, from Liibeck, in 
May, 1850*:— 

" I have been greatly troubled over the death of the good 
Bishop of Norwich. How high-souled he was ! I shall never 
forget how he ever bore himself towards me. With deep 
love and thankfulness shall I preserve the memory of him 
through my whole life. I was at Meran when the sad news 
reached me." 

Madame Schwabe, to whom she so wrote, was another- 
friend in whose house she was made at home, and with whom 
grew up, during these same years, a lasting and confidential 
intimacy. Her husband, a rich manufacturer at Manchester, 
was a man of culture, a refined, and cultivated musician, full 
of both religious and philanthropic interest. They received 
Jenny Lind at the time of her visit to Manchester; they 
invited her to their beautiful place on the Menai Straits. 
To Madame Schwabe she spoke and wrote freely of things ■ 
that were on her mind. Already, in 1848, they were on 
most affectionate terms; and, evidently, from the fun that 
came bubbling out in the letters, Jenny Lind felt herself to 
be thoroughly understood, so that she could write with 
unhindered freedom. Madame Schwabe, too, was a relative 
of a young pianist of Hamburg, in whose fortunes Jenny Lind 
had already taken a warm interest, "a very amiable young, 
man, who, certainly, has much talent and much feeling," as 
she writes in August, 1848, to her friend. His name was 
Otto Goldschmidt. 

Two other friends there were, who, in 1849, called out 
her special affection — Baroness French, and her daughter 
Georgina. Her letters to them brim over with toucliing 
fondness ; and it is delightful to see in them her strong . 
feelings struggling through the English language, which she ^ 
is determined to use, however uncertain her control over it. 

* Mdme. Salis-Schwabe has kindly allowed the use of these letters. 


"I don't know if you can understand my miserable 
English," she writes to Miss French, "but I prefer to 
write ever so bad English than the very best French ! " 
. ..." I feel a great deal for you, my dear Miss French. 
And as I can never change when I once love a person, you 
may be assured that I shall always and for ever be yours 
truly affectionate, 

"Jenny Lind." 

In these letters comes out that anxious climrinfr to the 

O O 

love of those of whom she was fond, which was noticeable in 
her. She is in suspicion lest it should be withdrawn from 
her ; she needs reassurance of its survival. Was it her 
harsh experiences in childhood which had left in her this 
note of fear, lest she should find herself forgotten ? 

" Take not away, I entreat you, your kindness and friend- 
ship towards me, dear lady," she writes to the Baroness, " and 
be assured that I think of you, and remember you with true 
and sincere affection ! My sister-love and sister-blessing to 
Miss Georgina. Send me sometimes a few words which tell 
me about your health and happiness. For such kindness my 
heart will always feel thankful ! " 

There are many passages, in these letters, full of the same 
tender longings. We have touched on them just to illustrate 
both the intensity of her personal affection, which flowed out 
with the enthusiasm of a child towards those whom she felt 
congenial ; and also the pathetic anxiety which seemed to 
plead against the dreaded relapse into the loneliness of her 
wandering dramatic career. As she wrote from Paris, " she 
needed much love." Yet she found it hard to wholly shake 
off a haimting distrust of the love given her, as if it was too 
good and precious a boon to endure. 

These letters reveal, also, how intimate, and how loving 
were the ties that now knit her to the English. Not only 
had the public welcome been all that Mendelssohn had fore- 
told, but, behind that, she had found an entry into hearts 

320 JENNY LIND. [bk. viir. ch. xir. 

which responded eagerly to her own. She felt herself 
cherished and nourished ; the fountains of affection were 
freely opened, and she drank at them with thankful delight. 
True, there was no home that could surpass, in dearness, and 
in comfort to her soul, that house of the Wichmanns in 
Berlin, whither her deepest confidence still turned to rest. 
But yet we can see that there was much in England to 
explain the burst of enthusiasm with which she closes the 
letter from Liibeck to Madame Schwabe, in which she spoke 
of her sorrow at the death of the Bishop of ISTorwich. 

" Ah ! Meran ! how splendid, how divine it is there ! 
And Switzerland too ! how lovely and magnificent ! But 
nowhere can I find England again ! I love England with all 
my soul, and I long to be there again ! " 


F E U I T I O N. 




r 323 ) 



How many times has that question been asked ! Who 
that has ever heard of her, has failed, at some moment or 
other of his interest in her story, to ask it ? 

And, indeed, it is no light question to ask ; to answer it, 
one must go down to the very roots of her mental life. For 
it was, in her case, not merely the withdrawal of a great 
singer from the special field in which she had won her 
triumphs. Such an one might still have full opportunity of 
exercising her gift. Jenny Lind herself was to find a noble 
sphere in the concert-room, in the Oratorio ; she never reaped 
a more amazing success, nor kindled a more rapturous 
emotion, than in that liistoric American tour which followed 
her withdrawal from the stage. 

But she was not only a singer. She was a Dramatic 
genius of the first rank. It was the combination of this 
dramatic force with her wonderful song which constituted 
her unique pre-eminence. This was her natural vocation ; it 
had been her familiar arena from early childhood. She had 
been bred up in it ; she knew its innermost secrets. She 
possessed the genuine power of transposing her whole per- 
sonality into a character. She had the magnetic influence 
which penetrated her audience through and through with her 
interpretation of the part which she was playing. And all 
this she sacrificed — sacrificed utterly and for ever, by her 
€wn act, her own solitary will, while yet a girl, at the 

Y 2 

324 JENNY LIND. [bk. tx. ch. i. 

supreme moment of her fame, in tlie teeth of plea and protest 
from a desperate public and imploring managers. 

Why, then, was it ? What were her motives ? 

At least, it is clear that it was due to no impatient impulse 
or wilful mood. It was the issue of a deliberate intention, 
slowly and steadily built up out of her experience, grounded 
upon her deepest personal conviction. It is this that we must 
first recognise ; and to do so we must go back behind the actual 
date at which her story now stands, and dig out the earlier 
years of this her resolution. It will then be seen that the 
resolution grew parallel with the growth of her European 
fame. There appear to be no traces of it left in her written 
records, so long as she was winning her triumphs at home, in 
Stockholm, or in the neighbouring Copenhagen. In Paris, 
under Garcia, she was taking close and eager interest in her 
dramatic profession, watching the Parisian stage for hints 
and suggestions, noting and contrasting the acting capacities 
of Eachel and herself.* She spoke then of a strong desire to 
feel the boards again under her feet. Everything indicates 
that she was then looking forward to an Operatic career as 
her natural profession, and was spending pains upon her 
histrionic as well as upon her musical education. On her 
return, she threw herself into her parts with unhindered 
freedom ; there is no hint of a recoil. 

When, then, can this recoil from the Stage be first 
detected? At a most remarkable moment. It is in the 
full swinff of her first Continental successes : it is in the 


very heart of her intense enjoyment of the superb oppor- 
tunities that were suddenly opening out before her. It is 
on the Ehine, in the September of that great year of her 
Berlin triumphs, 1845, that we, for the first time, encounter 
the motive to leave the stage in a positive shape ; and, what 
is most noticeable, is that already, at this earliest manifesta- 

Vol. i., Book II. 


tion of it, it has taken the form of a fixed and definite 

We hear of it from Mrs. Grote's MS. ' Memoir,' whom, it 
will be remembered, she met at Frankfort for the first time 
during that September. To her, she quietly confided her 
intention. She spoke of her intense dislike to the " entourage " 
which a theatre necessitated ; of the exhausting fatigue in- 
volved in dramatic singing ; of the physical risks ; and over 
against aU this distracting environment, she set her own 
simple tastes and humble needs. 

Mrs. Grote, as she listened to the tale of trouble, evidently 
felt that this intense distaste for the character of the life 
came from no superficial worry, but belonged both to the 
physical and spiritual realities of her nature. She sums up 
her conclusions in her private Note-book : — 

" Owing to a highly excitable nervous temperament," she 
writes, " she appears to be ill-suited to the conflicts which 
attend a triumphant career, and will, I fear, cut short her 
scenic life and retire to Sweden to lead a quiet and tranquil 
existence as soon as she has the means of doing so." * 

Evidently, the writer of these words was sure that this 
intention sprang out of no transitory mood of Jenny Lind. 
All its outlines are steadily fixed ; and Mrs. Grote as she 
listens, sees reason to fear that it will most certainly be 
carried out. 

And, moreover, Mrs. Grote recognises the reality of the 
reasons given. She evidently agrees that this nervous struc- 
ture is too excitable to bear the strain of a triumphant 
career. She fears for the loss to the stage of gifts so 
delicious ; but she cannot deny or refute the cogency of the 

* From Mrs. Grote's Note-book. Cf. the record of it in the M?. Memoir 
of the Life of Jenny Lind, p. 273, vol. i. 


326 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. i. 

And, then, the reasons ! They are suggested, here, in their 
most natural and most frequent form ; and they well 
bear special notice, for they mean much. It is not the 
drama as such, which is condemned. She sees nothing wrong 
or disreputable in it. It is only the conditions which 
belong to a triumphant dramatic career which seem to her 
so intolerable, as she looks from out of the midst of the 
turmoil of a Continental tour back to quiet memories of her 
Swedish home. We can imagine what it would mean to her 
— this incessant irritation of the entourage, acting upon 
nerves that were already lacerated by exhaustion. 

And then, is not the phrase in which Mrs. Grote sums 
up the significance of what she heard, full of obvious force ? 
The European triumph had thrust her out into the public 
arena. She would now have to push her way forward in the 
very thick of that rough battle which the fierce competition of 
the theatrical world made inevitable. No wonder, that a 
profound recoil should have, now, taken place, as the full 
pressure of a Continental career broke out upon her ! 
"Who can fail to give intelligible meaning to the " con- 
flicts that attend " on such a career ? Who can doubt the 
strain that it would throw on her " nervous structure " ? 
We have seen her temperament, we know its ideal cast, 
its lofty tone, its sacrificial flame, its haughty purity. 
How would it ever endure the fret, and the worry, the 
fever, and the sting, of those petty jealousies, those angry 
spites, those mean competitions, which, by some sad fate, 
seem bound to swarm about the green-room of a theatre, 
and, perhaps with even special fury, beset the musical 
drama ? 

Such personal heats, intrigues, ambitions, passions, were 
so singularly remote from her whole mental temper, that, 
perhaps she could hardly make sufficient allowance for those 
defects, to which the very qualities which constitute an 


actor, are peculiarly susceptible. Such a character is apt 
to be feverishly alert to the touch of its environment. Its 
personal susceptibilities must be ever on the " qui-vive." It 
must Ije sensitive to every external note of like, or dislike. 
It must quiver in response to the presence of others ; other- 
wise, it could never be dramatic. Its deepest instincts 
compel it to feel for outward sympathy, to cheer and to 
encompass it ; it is, in its essence, an appeal to the goodwill, 
to the favourable response, of its auditory; and this, its 
necessary temper, must accompany it off the stage, as well 
as on. In ordinary life, it will be equally susceptible to the 
conditions of personal contact ; it will have the same craving 
for sympathetic attention ; the same recoil at failing to obtain 
it. It is this fervent desire for kindly recognition which 
gives to actors so often something of the charm, the naivete, 
which we associate with children ; but which also renders 
them liable to the pettishness and the quarrelsomeness of 

And what if all tliis inevitable pain of a dramatic 
career is intensified by the fact that the actors are, also, 
musicians ! 

The peculiar sensitiveness of their nerves lays such people 
open to sharper trials ; they least of all men can harden 
themselves against personal attacks ; they quiver under every 
jar and jolt which life's rough journey brings with it. They 
lie open and exposed to every shock of accident, to every 
change of tone and atmosphere, i^o wonder, that the em- 
broilments which make bitter so much of the dramatic life, 
should culminate in the Opera. Such embroilments, so far 
as they sprang from the dramatic desire for public recogni- 
tion, Jenny Lind would be unable to comprehend, or to 
tolerate. For she was strangely devoid of such ambition. 
But this would make them all the more impossible 
to her, as an environment; while her musical nerves 

328 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. i. 

would make their existence in her neighbourhood a misery 
to her. 

And, then, there is the wretched finance ! This delicate, 
nervous artistic life of the drama is all netted in the meshes of 
mercantile speculation. It is being " exploite " ; it must be 
made to pay. It is in tlie hands of those for whom it is a 
remunerative enterprise, a financial concern. Each individual 
gift has its price, each has to come into the market ; each 
artist feels himself the prisoner, or the prey, of some commer- 
cial transaction. That which should be a temple of art is 
turned into a house of merchandise, even if it escapes be- 
coming a " den of thieves." Such a situation is inevitable 
to the theatrical career. But what a bitter warfare for such 
a one as Jenny Lind to find herself waging — she, who held 
her voice as a boon from God, endowing lier with a prophetic 
mission ! What fretful disputes ! What weary wranglings ! 
What pettiness of detail ! How she would loathe it ! Every 
fibre of her frame would repudiate these narrow and nasty 
necessities. Nor was she happy in her management of such 
affairs. As we have seen, in the Bunn incident, which was 
agitating her so profoundly at the very moment of her inter- 
view with Mrs. Grote, she was apt to hastily rush into a 
bond ; and, then, at once, to regret it, and, perhaps, attempt 
to undo it. She would consult, and take advice, and 
be persuaded ; and, then, react afterwards, and desert the 
advice which she had accepted. All this was natural 
enough for a young girl driven to fight for her own hand, 
amid the mob of managers,- of strange tongues, and peoples, 
competing for the chance of driving a good bargain with her, 
of reaping a profit out of her. It was natural enough for a 
spiritual genius, beating about in unknown waters, tangled 
in alien winds. How could she comprehend the rigidities 
of business ? But, natural and intelligible though it were, 
it was bound to bring her trouble which might well make 


her sicken of a career which involved matters so odious, 
and so disturbing.* 

Moreover, she was ah^eady tired of the incessant strain 
involved in the very act of performing. She had been hard 
at it for so long. She had known all that its richest suc- 
cesses could bring her, ever since childhood : and the uproar 
of applause could throw no deceptive glamour over all the 
painful and exhausting fatigues, that are inevitable in a 
career, which draws so desperately upon the emotional re- 
sources, and which must be subject to such violent recoils as 
the drained forces slowly recuperate themselves. 

And then, in vivid antithesis to this warfare of a public 
career, there was the hope of tranquillity in Sweden. Here 
was a most forcible factor in the decision. Throurrhout all 
that period in Germany, we have heard notes of her home- 
sickness. Again and again, it comes over her, as we have 
seen, like a veritable illness.! She had nothing in her of the 
Bohemian. At the root of her innermost being, lay the 
domestic instinct — the craving for the security of fixed and 
sure family life. Deep woven, within the pilgrim-soul of the 
artist, were the fibres of the woman's nature — the woman 
whose life had sprung out of the heart of the " bourgeoisie," 
with its clinging to rooted traditions and to secure founda- 
tions. Such was her nature ; and always, therefore, she was 
singularly alive to the tender associations, the beneficent 
familiarities that a^o to the building of home. And how 
lonely, in contrast, was that restless pilgrimage over Europe 
which was the normal condition of her theatrical life ! True, 
she had a wonderful way of winning admittance, at each 

* Let anyone who ever knew Jenny Lind, turn to a book such as "The 
Maplesou Memoirs " (London 1888) ; let him learn there, in its rollicking 
gossip, the characters, the conditions, with which theatrical management 
concerns itself: and his chief wonder will, surely, be how she tolerated 
such an environment for a single day. 

t Book v., Ch. in. Book VL, Ch. V. 

330 JENNY LIND. [kiv. ts. ch. i. 

city, into some private liouse, where she was surrounded 
with affection. But yet how transitory all such visits must 
be ! Ever she must hurry on, — she and her one companion, 
to fulfil engagements in this strange place and in that; 
there was no rest for her feet; no constant refuge into 
which to retreat. All was in movement; nothing stood 
still. She was never more than a passing guest. 

As we picture the dismal instability, the arid homelessness 
of such a wandering existence, we can hardly wonder that 
all the splendour of her triumphant career could never expel 
or stifle in her the passionate desire to escape and be at 
peace, in some tranquil harbour amid the home waters — 
some still and unchanging retreat nestling under the familiar 

This deep and passionate longing showed itself, during 
the very time of which we are now speaking, in two 
most remarkable letters, already quoted in this work, which 
will prove how deliberate her intention had become. In the 
letter written on November 24th, 1845, to Madame Erikson, 
it will be remembered that she says : 

"I wonder if I dare let out that next autumn I shall 
come home quite quietly, and settle down, caring nothing 
for the world. You will call this a crime ; but please reflect 
how difficult it is to stand all this roving about, alone, alone — 
ever to have to rely on my own judgment, and, besides, 
so absorbed in my roles. Oh, it is not easy ! " * 

And to Josephson she wrote on December 1st, 1845, in 
the very thrill of the joyful excitement at her growing powers, 
and at her frequent meetings with Mendelssohn — 

" I have the old home-sickness all the same ! And my 
only wish is to get into quietude away from the stage. And 
a year hence I go home, and remain at home, my friend ! Ah I 
how I shall enjoy life ! Ah ! peace is the best that there 

is ! " t 

* Vol. i. Book IV., Ch. XV. 

t Cf. Book IV. Cli. XV. 

1845-49.] WHY DID SHE LEAVE THE STAGE f 331 

Always the moments of European success are those at 
which this note of home most emphatically occurs. Here, 
for instance, is an illustration — one more added to the many 
already familiar to us. It occurs in a beautiful letter of hers ; 
one in which her sense of the splendour of the career open to 
her is vividly expressed, so that she seems almost surprised, 
herself, that it should not have overmastered and expelled 
her love of home ; and yet she finds that it is not so. The 
letter belongs to a later date than that which we are actually 
considering ; but it so clearly exhibits the working of her 
mind on this matter that we may be forgiven for inserting it 
at this point. 

It is written from London, in June 1847, to a young friend 
in Sweden, Miss Behrens, now Madame Lamm, who had lived 
on the opposite side of the courtyard, in the Bonde Palace, 
when Jenny Lind lived there with the Lindblads. They used 
to talk to each other by the open windows : and, now. Miss 
Behrens has sent her a drawing of her old window in the 
courtyard. She writes in return, out of the very heart of her 
London triumphs : 

" My good kind Fanny, 

" You must not conclude, from my long silence, that I ha^'e 
forgotten you. I cannot do that, with anyone to whom my 
heart has, at any time, been drawn ; nor could I become cold 
and indifferent towards them. 

" Thanks, my good Fanny, for the dear little drawing you 
sent me. I only wish I could fully express the pleasure it has 
given me ; and how joyful a thing it is to find people possessed 
of a faithful heart, as you, my kind Fanny, appear to be ! Oh, 
yes ! try to keep it for all time — for it is a heavenly thing ! 

" It appears to me to be a sacred act to stand in thought 
before that window, where I have stood so often : and to go 
over, in spirit, all that time I lived behind it. For the people 
^vith whom I lived then (I mean, the Lindblads) are, and 
will remain for ever the dearest to me on earth, and the 
best objects of all my thoughts ! 

332 JENNT LIND. [bk. ix. ch. i. 

" And you will now meet them soon ! 

"How are you, yourself? Are you still the same child 
as of yore ? With the laughter as then ? And are you 
conscious of your good luck ? Do you know what it means 
to be ' at home ' ? 

" Thank God, I shall now soon come back to it ; for where 
the heart is, there the whole self yearns to be. 1 am right 
grateful to God for having preserved in my breast this love 
for my native land ; for it might have happened that I never 
again should have wished for Sweden after the heavenly — 
yes ! the heavenly career which I have had. If you knew, 
Fanny, what a sensation of the nearness of a higher power 
one instinctively feels, when one is permitted to contribute 
to the good of mankind, as I have done, and still do ! 
Believe me, it is a great gift of God's mercy ! 

" I am in excellent health ; and have been so ever since 
I set foot on foreign soil ; and this I look upon as the 
greatest of many gifts. 

"But the paper is coming to an end — so I end also. 
Farewell until we meet again ! and greet thy parents from 
yours affectionately, 

"Jenny Lind." 

" Do you still have the same room ? " 

There is the secret of her heart laid open — its instinctive, 
its solemn, its religious hold on home-affections. This it 
is which does so much to create the passionate desire for 
withdrawal from that sad, lonely pilgrimage, as of a stranger 
and a sojourner, which the Drama necessitates. 

We have sketched the inner temper with which slie came 
to her determination. Let us now trace out, by more exact 
steps, the growth of the resolution to act. 

The desire, then, was present in her, during the autumn 
of 1845. Already, by December, it had taken a fixed and 
deliberate form. We can pursue it unfailingly after this, 
point by point. Let us follow on its track. 

On July 4th, 184G, she writes to her dear friend to whom 
she opened her soul so often, Madame Amalia Wichmann : 


" I am fully determined, tliat next summer, or at the 
very latest, next autumn, I will leave the stage. I will 
meanwhile make use of the interval ; and if I could, indeed, 
get things so arranged this spring, it might be wiser to nurse 
up my powers for the approaching winter . . . ." 

Here we have her resolutely scheming how to bring about 
her determination; she is engaged in fixing the dates. 
Everything is rapidly settling itself in her mind. Perhaps 
the following letter, written in October, 1846, from Munich, 
though it has nothing to say about her positive intention, 
may well reveal the deep currents of thought that are astir 
in her, beneath all tlie surface of her brilliant life — currents 
that are likely enough to carry her far out of the common 
track of worldly success. It is a remarkable letter for a 
girl only just twenty-six years old to write to a youth on his 
entering at a university. It is sent to Eudolph Wichmann, 
who was just passing from his home to Heidelberg University. 

" You are just going to begin life, dear Eudolph ; and life 
has quite as much joy as it has sorrow : but I, for my part, 
prefer the sorrow: for there is something exalted about it, 
whenever one's heart is full of pain : for then it is that we 
first feel how poor we are in earth, how rich in heaven." 

Ao-ain, we have already read a letter written in this very 
month from Frankfort, to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer, which 
gives exact precision to her determination. 

" I am longing to get away from the stage. I think, now, 
that I shall be ready in six months. I cannot do otherwise : 
it is stronger than I." * 

In the November that followed the writing of this letter, it 
would seem that her Berlin friends were alarmed at her 
resolution, and the result was a letter of strong appeal to her 
from the influential critic of the Vossche Zeitung, Herr 

* Cf. Book VI., Chapter I. . - ' ■■ 

334 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. i. 

Eellstab, whose high opinion of her we already know. The 
letter is lost ; but it was one that (she confesses) greatly 
pleased her : and it was, no doubt, one which put, in the 
most forcible and effective manner possible, the claim which 
the world had to enjoy the manifestation of dramatic gifts so 
special and so elevating as her own. But in the letter to 
Madame Wichmann, written on ISTovember 28th, from Carls- 
ruhe, in which she mentions having received this appeal from 
Eellstab, she still says : " For all that, I am firm." * The 
considerations, then, so many and so strong, which should 
keep her on the stage, have already been laid before her, in 
as masterful and earnest a form, probably, as they could ever 
be thrown into ; and, yet, though she has weighed them, she 
is not moved. 

On January 20th, 1847, she writes a charming letter from 
Vienna, introducing Schumann and Madame Schumann, in 
the warmest terms, to the favour of the Wichmanns ; f and 
then she ends — 

"Yes! when shall I see you again! Ah! how this 
longing for peace grows in me beyond all bounds ! But 
time flies on fast : and, surely, no creature were ever so 
utterly happy as I, — if only I were free ! " 

That longing, that was rising in her beyond all bounds, 
came, we must remember, in the very heart of one of her 
most bewildering hours of dramatic glory. The enthusiasm 
for her at Vienna rose even to frenzy. There was nothing 
that was not possible for her, there : everything was at her 
feet. But, for all that, it cannot check her deep desire for 

" Her life went turning, turning 

Through mazes of heat and sound 
But for peace her heart was yearning ! 
— And, now, peace laps her round." 

* Cf. Book VI., Chapter II., where the letter is given in full, 
t Cf. Book VI., Chapter VI. 


Again from Vienna, on February ISth, came an eager, 
an indignant reassertion of her will. Madame "Wiclimann 
has heard a rumour that she is meditating an engagement at 
Paris ; and the answer she gets is clear enough. 

" My very deaeest ! 

" What is it that has come to you ? / go to Paris ? 
Never, in my life ! Who can have told you this ? And how 
should I ever have bound myself to such a decision, without 
telling you ! . . . . 

" They have, indeed, made me every kind of proposal from 
Paris — but not for one second, did I ever think of it ! 

" From off the stage I go ! I have no other want in the 
world than that ! " 

Madame Wichmann was unlucky in her intelligence this 
year: for she transmits another rumour, which shares the 
fate of its predecessor. Jenny Lind writes, from London, 
whither she has been now conveyed from Vienna by the 
united exertions of Edward Lewin and Mr. Lumley. She 
Avrites from Clairville, Old Bromptou, 12th August, 1847. 

"Dearest and beloved Amalia! 

" You believe, as I clearly see, that I am engaged to 
some one ! How should this be ? and with whom ? I am 
sure I know nobody whom I would have ! And I have very 
high thoughts of finding a being, to loving whom I could 
utterly and entirely surrender myself. No ! — it is not true 
that I am going to marry, dear, dearest Amalia ! I cannot 
give you this joy. Ah ! if I could find a man such as you 
are as a woman — yes ! then, indeed, I should be lost ! " 

Naturally, this problem of marriage is interwoven with 
the question which we are now considering. It is the 
rooflessness of the stage-life which is its misery. She felt 
herself unbuttressed and exposed, without fence, or hedge, 
against the loud and hard crowd of men. All this was just 
what marriage would relieve. But, then, what would be the 

336 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. en. i. 

exact conclusion ? Would marriage make possible the 
dramatic career by relieving it of its harshness ? or would it 
intensify the desire to escape by opening a path for retreat, 
altogether, from the boards? That will depend on the 
particular character of the marriage that offers itself : and, 
for the moment, as she declares in her letter, there is no such 
offer before her. 

Nothinsf, then, disturbs her intention. In 1847 it will 
be remembered, how strongly she asserts to Her Majesty, as 
she speaks with her after the private concert at Buckingham 
Palace, her resolution to leave the stage.* Evidently her 
London successes, happy as she was in them, had done 
nothing to shake her resolution. 

In October when, as we know, she was singing at Berlin, 
it was with the clear and general understanding that it was 
the last time of her appearance on the stage there.f 

On November 4th Mendelssohn died. How much that 
meant to her, we know already. His purity, his exaltation, 
his fervour thrilled her into high response. And, then, his 
belief in her was a perpetual appeal to her to trust her great 
gift, to put out all its powers, to live for her Art, as in holy 
service. Through him, too, she had entered on those higher 
levels of the Oratorio, into which she could pour without 
hindrance her full spiritual force. But we cannot resist asking 
how this influence of his bore on her present intention. In 
pressing her to the work of Oratorio, was he consciously 
working for her withdrawal from the Opera ? It would 
appear to have been wholly otherwise : for we have already 
seen that he was still, to the very end, possessed with the 
hope that he might achieve an Opera which she could 
interpret. So far was he, then, from fostering her deter- 
mination to abandon the stage, that, he had, it would seem, 

* Cf. Book VII.. Chapter XI. 
t Cy. Book VIIL, Chapter I. 


lioped for a development of her powers there, in which he 
might assist. What would have been the issue of such an 
attempt if it had succeeded ? Would it have led further ? 
No one can say. But, now, he is gone: and she looks 
out, from her old home, towards that Europe which is 
now empty for her of its mightiest presence, of its noblest 
life : and she finds herself strangely calm, — calm mth the 
wonderful security and sweetness of home. 

We have read, already, the words in which she spoke of 
this. Mendelssohn has died, and, yet, she " feels something 
so strange "in her s^Dirit. She is so happy and peaceful 
at home ; it is all to her mind. She has no fear of feelino- 
any void ; she can do much good ; her aunt is very dear to 
her. So she writes to Madame Wichmann.* 

Home is, plainly, drawing upon her heart. She is 
surprised, herself, at her own content. The suspicion that, 
after all the brilliant turmoil of Continental glory, it should 
seem tame and poor, disproves itself. She sees opportunities 
of work which will fully occupy her. All this had its effect 
in deepening her resolution, in confirming her desire for 
peace. And yet, the particular work itself which she chiefly 
"set herself to do," was not quite what we might have 
expected. For was it not the endowment of the Theatre 
School ? And how could this chime in with her purpose 
of leaving the stage? Here she is, bending her mind 
to the training of others for the career which she was 
herself longing to abandon. She is trying to save poor 
children from her own earlier experiences ; but she is makino- 
their road smoother towards that life from which her own 
later experience was compelling her to recoil. How did she 
quite reconcile this double-mind ? 

Probably, the changes that come over this her scheme, as 

* Cy. Book VIII., Chapter IL 
VOL. II. 7. 

'SS8 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. i. 

she worked it out, represent the gradual sense of tliis cross- 
purposing. But, at any rate, it remains absolutely certain 
that, at the time she purposed to assist the Theatre School, 
she had no moral reproach whatever to make against the 
Drama itself : or against the profession of acting. This can 
have been, in no degree, the reason for her own withdrawal. 
It is important to keep her motives clear. She had a 
profound sense of its dangers — of the thorns that beset its 
roses : but she passes no condemnation on it itself. 

In the meantime, happy as she has found herself at home, 
she is a little restless ; she is casting glances abroad : she 
wonders what she ought to be at. 

" Do you know, dear brothers," she writes in February to 
two of the Wichmann's sons, " it has been beautiful this 
winter in Stockholm ; heaps of snow, and that is just what 
makes our city beautiful. I am gay : and then again, not so 
gay. I do not quite know what to be doing — whether I 
must travel again about the world, or bide here always. I 
am anxious to see whether we might not yet take a journey 


There was, however, another circumstance, besides the 
interest of the Theatre School, which might have been 
expected to colour, to some degree, her decision about the 
stage. She had, as we already know, at the close of this 
season in Stockholm, become engaged to Herr Julius 
Giinther.* This engagement meant a great deal to her. On 
her return to London, almost immediately after the ex- 
change of rings, she spoke of it to Mrs. Grote with great 
enthusiasm ; and, in the Note-book, in its record of a picnic 
at Wimbledon, Mrs. Grote writes : " Jenny talked with me 
for a whole hour about Giinther." 

But Herr Giinther was the tenor at the Theatre Eoyal. 

* Cf. Book VIII., Chapter II. 


His whole life was cast with the Opera. Such an enccao-e- 
inent must, at least, have suggested closer ties between 
herseK and the theatrical world, which she was so bent 
on abandoning. And we cannot but wonder how such a 
marriage, if it had taken place, would have suited the 
resolution which it is our main object to discuss. The 
Theatre, and its interests, and its fortunes, would have been 
kept close at hand, encompassing her about with constant 
insistence. But, whatever the external likelihood of this, 
there is no sign that her gladness in the engagement produced 
any wavering in her will. 

She passed through her second brilliant London season 
with the firm conviction that it was to be her last. And, 
happy as that season was, there can be little doubt that, 
deep within her, the religious convictions, which her Eno-lish 
surroundings fostered and developed, were steadily increasinf 
their hold upon her : and, as their pressure grew, her 
repugnance to the theatrical mode of life, to the fever and 
restlessness of the dramatic career, grew also, and bred in 
her a yet deeper longing for the spiritual peace of privacy 
and home. All this would be continually backed by the 
encouragement of her companion, Mdlle. Ahmansson, by 
whose strong piety she was much impressed, and who would 
always be throwing her influence into the scale against the 
Opera. So it worked : it began to tell deeply upon her thouo-ht, 
and feeling, and speech; and, as it did so, it began to 
disturb her hopes of the future. For it drew her on to 
ground with wliich Herr Giinther, far away at Stockholm, 
had no familiarity, or sympathy. It is not for us to enter 
upon such private affairs. Enough to say that, throughout 
this period, the letters that passed between them seem to 
have revealed more and more divergence in spirit and 
in aim; until, by the autumn, it had become clear to 
both, that a union was becoming less and less possible. 

z 2 

340 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. t. 

There was not sufficient harmony Ijetween them, as to the 
motives and principles by which life should be directed. 
And, at Dublin, which she reached, in her provincial tour, 
on October 8th, the crisis came : the engagement was broken 
off by the consent of both. 

Here, then, ended the prospect of a marriage which, though 
it would never have broken her decision to leave the stage, 
would have, at any rate, linked her with its fortunes and 
surroundings. There could be no doubt, now, that when the 
separation came, it would be complete. And, by force of 
circumstance, it happened that the next pressure, which fell 
upon her from outside, tended to emphasise the complete- 
ness of this proposed separation. It came upon her in this 
fashion. During the provincial tour, recorded in Book VIII., 
Chapter VI., she went to Newcastle, accompanied by Mrs. 
Grote ; and stayed there, in the house of Mr. Joseph Grote, 
brother of the historian. Mr. Joseph Grote had a brother-in- 
law staying in the house, a young captain, in the Indian army, 
called Claudius Harris, who was, entirely, mastered by the 
charm and the goodness of the wonderful singer, whom he 
found to be so startlingiy unlike anything that he had been 
ever accustomed to associate with the stage. He followed 
her, with the enthusiasm of youth, to Edinburgh, Glasgow, 
Dublin. She had, on first meeting him, it must be confessed, 
thought " Oh ! what a dull young man ! " so she told Mrs. 
Stanley, afterwards, in describing the affair. But she was 
touched by finding that they had religious interests in 

Later on, towards the winter, she was singing at Bath, 
which was his home: and she took the opportunity of 
calling upon his mother and sister, and of asking after him. 
He immediately rushed there from Mrs. Crete's cottage at 
Burnham Beeches,"where he was staying : saw her frequently : 
and, soon after, pressed his claim upon her affections. True 


to her Swedish training, she told him as soon as he made his 
offer, that " he must tell his mother ; " and when he said, 
" Do not be angry with me : I have already talked to her 
about it," she felt the true Swedish delight in tliis recognition 
of the parent's authority. 

Unluckily, this readiness to consult his mother had its 
dangers, as well as its gains, as she was, afterwards, to find 
to her cost. 

For he had been brought up in a strict Evangelical 
system, which thrust the stage outside the pale of religion. 
His mother had a strong influence over him; and to 
her the drama itself was a thing to be condemned and 
avoided. " She detested," we are told, " acting, actors, and 
actresses." Thus Jenny Lind's splendid dramatic powers 
wore to him, probably, the character of perilous temptations, 
rather than of gifts from God. 

It was on this last point that collision was inevitable. 
It was one thing for her to find the conditions of theatrical 
life intolerable: it was quite another to have the moral 
rectitude of her entire career challenged in any way. And 
it is most important for us, in defining her motive in leaving 
the stage, to see how her happiness in this engagement was 
gone, so soon as it became clear to her that she was asked 
not merely to abandon her profession, but to be ashamed of 
it. At first, this difference of motive did not disclose itself. 
When she stayed at Norwich, in January, 1849, she spoke 
to Mrs. Stanley of the engagement with a quiet confidence 
in the prospect before her. 

" I want a support. I am quite alone," she said, " and 
just when I want help, the finger of God brings me this heart 
that can feel with me about all works of charity, just as I do. 
I never could marry any one who did not think with me 
about this : I should say to him ' Good-bye ! good-bye ! ' " 

" We msh," she said again, " to live quiet and uninter- 


342 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. i. 

rupted somewhere. I want to be near trees ; and water ; and 
a cathedral. I am tked, body and soul ; but my soul most ! 
More my soul than my body ! We are to be married on the 
7th of March " (the anniversary of the debut as Agatha). 

♦She was rejoicing in the feeling that the decision, which 
had been making for years, was now finally sealed. " She 
was free," she kept repeating to Mrs. Stanley ; she was never 
to sing on the stage again. Yet she was dreading how far 
she might be worked upon to save her old manager, and 
his people from ruin. 

What had her Norwich friends to advise, at this crisis 
of her abandonment of the stage ? It has been made 
absolutely clear, by what we have seen, that they had 
nothincj whatever to do with initiating her intention. It 
stood firm, and decisive, long before she reached England, 
or knew them. Nor had they anything to do with 
bringing it to a head. The crisis with Her Majesty's Theatre 
had already taken a violent stage before they learned it from 
her lips. Their conversation with her, at her earliest visit,, 
had all turned on her power to purify the drama by her 
influence, and example. That was her hope. " Voila ce que 
jesper^e ! " she had exclaimed ; and they had strongly 
encouraged her in this high aim.* It had been all on 
a different tack, then ; and her deep desire to leave the 
whole career behind sprang from sources utterly independent 
of the Norwich influence. 

But now that the desire has issued in act, now that the 
resolution is taken, no doubt, the weight of the Stanleys' 
inclinations would all go to back it. The Bishop had, indeed, 
bravely broken through the conventional scruples of 
religious people in receiving at his palace, as a friend, one 
fresh from the boards. Mrs. Stanley had a hearty, and 

* Cf. Book YII. 

1845-49.] WHY DID SEE LEAVE THE STAGE f 343 

intelligent appreciation of Jenny Lind's dramatic powers, as 
she shows by a most sympathetic account of her acting in 
the Sonnambula. Nevertheless, the old Evangelical tradition 
was strong; it is felt even in the cordial records of the 
intimacy wliich sprang up between the whole family and 
Jenny Lind. When, then, she confided to them her resolu- 
tion, they could not but sympathise, and approve. Their 
hearts would eagerly respond to her desire to free the soul 
from the entanglements of the stage that she might surrender 
it more wholly to spiritual restfulness. Thus, in her conflict 
with Lumley and his protestations, she would have behind 
her the full support of the Stanleys' affectionate friendship. 

Poor Lumley might have hoped for more help from Mrs. 
Grote who had befriended him so eagerly, in the first efforts 
to secure his prize. But, here again, he was disappointed. 
Mrs. Grote had, as we have seen, felt, when she first met her, 
that her nervous structure was unequal to the strain. And 
now, as we have been told at page 276,* she could not 
but confess that, even if she had the persuasive power, which 
she greatly doubted, she would be unwilling to deny Jenny 
Lind the rest which she so greatly needed. 

So it stood. The situation might seem to be a clear 

But, nevertheless, a storm of trouble fell upon her. The 
storm broke through the concerts which were to be her 
compensation to despairing Lumley. 

We have heard already the story of the concerts : how the 
first fell so far short of its expected effect, that she was 
compelled to modify her resolution if she was ever to save 
Lumley's finances ; and how she, in order to redeem her 
pledge to him, offered him six last performances on the 
stage. It was this offer, which brought to the front the intense 

* Cf. Book VIII., Chapter X. 

344 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. i. 

repugnance felt to the stage itself by Captain Harris and his 
relations, and she found herself forced to choose between her 
lover's refusal to consent to these appearances, and her word 
given to Lumley. What was she to do ? 

Most providentially, at this critical juncture she suddenly 
won the help of a most wise and resolute adviser. 
Mr. Nassau Senior, the well-known writer, and at that 
time a Master in Chancery, and a close personal friend 
of Mrs. Grote's, had been asked by that lady to put 
his legal knowledge at the service of Jenny Lind, in 
the anxious matter of marriasfe settlements. This he had 
already done in the month of February ; and now, on the 
16th of April, 1849, he found a letter from her, transmitted 
through Mrs. Grote, asking to see him. He went the next 
day to her cottage, and after she had walked up and down 
the room for some time without speaking, she sat down 
opposite him and fixed on him steadfastly for a minute or 
two "her wonderful grey eyes" (as he calls them) and at last 
asked him if he could stay a couple of hours. He stayed; 
and she poured out to him the whole story — how she was 
pressed by people who, according to her own graphic 
delineation, " tliink the theatre a temple of Satan, and all 
the actors priests of the Devil," how they required of her 
" not only to abandon her profession, but to be ashamed of 
it,"—" to go down to Bath, among people who care for 
nothing but clergymen and sermons, as a sort of convert or 
penitent." In the meantime "poor Lumley and my 
colleagues tell me that it is ungrateful in me, after having 
acquired such fame as an actress, to desert the stage as if it 
were a disgrace ; — that if I do so, then, instead of raising the 
profession, as I had hoped to do, I shall sink it lower, as I 
shall seem to fly from it like a degradation." 

We see, in all this, how the artist, and the woman, were 
battling within her. Here was love brought very near to 


her ; but yet the love clashed with every instinct that 
made her an artist. It challenged, it fought against, her 
spiritual convictions. To follow it, was to turn her whole 
past history, into which she had herself thrown such lofty 
motives, such pure inspirations, such religious elevation, into 
a reproach, a scandal. It would make a breach in the 
continuity of her life ; it would set her at war with herself. 
No wonder that she cried, "I see that, any way, all my 
happiness is gone for ever." 

But Mr. Nassau Senior brought to bear uj)on the situation 
the excellent experience of a wise lawyer. He was absolutely 
clear that, under the circumstances, her first duty was to 
fulfil her engagement to Lumley, and, if Captain Harris 
treated that as a sufficient reason for separation, then to break 
off the marriage, which was bound to be so obviously un- 

She saw this to be the true course; and, she, finally, 
signed a letter, addressed to Mr. Senior, beggmg him to 
see Mrs. Harris, and to tell her that, after consulting lier 
friends, she found that they considered her bound, in honour, 
to her profession, to the public, and to Mr. Lumley, to 
perform for a few nights at the Opera ; that, if Mr. Harris 
considered his principles to be hurt or dishonoured by this, — 
then she could not be responsible for the consequences. 

Even this letter did not quite end matters. Captain Harris 
after all persuaded himself to agree to the six performances ; 
and Mr. Senior was called in, not to convey ultimatums, but 
to draw up settlements ; the marriage itself was fixed for 
May IG — by special licence. But, then, with the settle- 
ments, the old bitter question reappeared. Though she was, 
herself, determined, as we well know, to leave the stage for 
ever, yet her adviser naturally refused to make this a legal 
condition of the settlement. His client ought not to be 
fettered. As a woman with, a profession, and owning money, 

346 JENNY LIND. [ek. ix. ch. i. 

she was bound to be left free ; she must be given full liberty 
to use her vocal powers as she thinks fit. There could not 
be an express proviso against her ever acting. And more- 
over, it was also imperative that, apart from the question of 
the stage, she should have full power to make her own 
engagements to sing, and complete control over the disposition 
of her own earnings. This, as we know, was a vital matter, 
according to her mind. To her, her earnings were a sacred 
trust for which she was answerable. So her adviser insisted. 
Captain Harris could not agree to this. The freedom 
demanded for the wife, seemed to him " unscriptural." This 
may seem a small point; but indeed, it was as the point 
of a hidden rock over which two deep opposing seas were 
clashing aqainst each other. It brought to the surface, once 
again, the profound antagonism between two principles of life 
which could not combine, however much the combination was 

Mr. Senior was leaving for Paris on May 10th with Mrs. 
Grote ; but, before going, he earnestly recommended Mdlle. 
Lind to allow no change in the settlements, out of which he 
had already expunged every word against which any complaint 
could be made ; and he begged her, if all was broken ofi^ 
to come, without a day's delay, straight to Mrs. Grote at 
Paris, where she would find counsel and comfort, without 
which, in her loneliness, she could not stand. 

Off to Paris, to Maison Penci, in the Champs Elysees, he 
went with Mrs. Grote, to await anxiously, the issue. Letters 
arrived on the 13th, the 14th, and the 15th, which, though 
full of fluctuations, and uncertainties, spoke of negotiations, 
conducted by Mrs. Stanley, which ended in a mutual release 
of both from the engagement. 

But, even now, would she be firm in her promise to leave 
London, and come to Paris ? Anyhow, a room was got 
ready ; and, on the 16th itself, at about seven in the evening. 


when Mrs. Grote was sitting, with a headache, over the fire, 
there was a tap at the door, and in came Jenny Lind. 

She had got her passport the moment after her decision 
had been taken, and had come as fast as steam could carry 
her. She was free ; and free in a manner honourable to 
both. She seemed to pant chiefly for rest ; she felt tired " to 
her very bones."* 

* For our account of this affair we are greatly indebted to a private 
record made by Sir. Senior, -which the kindness of his daughter, Mrs. 
Simpson, has allowed us to see, and use. 

348 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. cn. ii. 




We have, now, reached the date at which we broke off the 
story of our heroine, after her farewell to the Opera, while we 
paused to recall her social intimacies in England, and, then, 
to recover the thread of those inward motives, which led, 
from far back in her life, to her final act in abandoning 
the stage. We are, now, in full possession of her mind 
and can set out, once again, with her, on the path along 
which her career, for the future, carries her. It is needless 
to enter upon the inward troubles, that necessarily followed 
the severe crisis through which she has passed. Gradually 
her old self stole back to her. She began to delight in the 
scenery of Paris, which, in May, is enchanting. She had 
long walks in the Tuileries, and drives in the Bois de 
Boulogne ; and " could have listened for hours," writes 
Mr. Senior, "to the nightingales. She has paid great 
attention to the habits of singing-birds, and told us stories of 
their shyness and coquetry and of the manner in which she 
\ised to get them to sing by pretending not to attend to 
them."* She called on Meyerbeer ; she gave a musical lesson 
every morning to a Swedish girl, Miss Ebeling. Her old 
friend from Hamburg, Madame Arnemann, appeared for a 
few days, having come on from London whither she had 
rushed at the news of the wedding, only to find the bird 
flown to Paris. 

* From private record of Mr. Nassau Senior. 


She sang for an hour at the piano, at a five o'clock tea, 
ending with the farewell song in the Vestale. " You have 
sometimes asked me which is my best part — it is the 
Vestale" she said to Mr. Senior. She went to the 
PropKete, but got quickly tired of it, and came home after 
the second act. She sang one evening at the house of the 
Swedish Minister, exciting, according to Mrs. Grote's diary, 
" the most extravagant admiration." 

Altogether, she found herself enjoying the blessed sense of 
freedom from anxiety and the hurry of work, and was 
beginning to welcome the many experiences which Paris 
could give. But, suddenly, in June, a sad event threw her 
into grief. She had met Madame Catalani, and had sung to 
her in a way that delighted that renowned singer * ; but, on 
Mrs. Grote calling to leave cards, before their departure from 
Paris, Madame Catalani was found to be dead, stricken 
suddenly of cholera. Mdlle. Lind was profoundly distressed ; 
the shock quite iinnerved her ; she could not rest until they 
had all got away from Paris, and its horrible cholera. 

Besides the cholera, Paris was charged, at the time, with 
perilous stuff. The irreconcilable Eepublicans were 
threatening an emeute on the subject of the intervention of 
France in Italian affairs ; this gave rise to strong repressive 
measures ; Paris was declared to be in a state of siege ; 
80,000 soldiers were reported to be in the town. It was 
thus that the whole party fled to Amiens, including her 
guardian. Judge Munthe, who had come from Stockholm 
to consult and advise. With him she continued her journey 
through Brussels to Cologne. And here a crisis occurred, 
which she shall tell in her own words. They were written 
in a long letter, to Madame Wichmann, from Schlangenbad, 
July 11, which shall be given almost entire ; for it reviews 
the whole matter which we have been following out, and it 

* See Lumley's " Eeminiscences," 1864, Cliap.[_XVIL 

350 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. ii. 

reveals her inner feelings and convictions after all that she 
had gone through. It begins by many apologies for not 
writing before. 

" Eeally I could write volumes ! But it is just this which 
makes writing, to me, so detestable — that, in reality, one 
can convey so little by it ! I have lately gone through 
much, my dearest Amalia, and should like to recount it to 
you from my innermost heart ; but not to put it all down on 
paper .... Things and experiences approached me which 
deeply affected my peace of mind. Everything in my inner- 
most heart remained undecided for a long time. I did not 
know what to write. I was very near to marrying. But 
again it came to nothing ; and I believe this was the best, 
for there w^ere things that did not please me, and I should 
probably not have been made happy 

" Oh dear ! I am once more myself : and I feel that I 
have many other duties, and great duties, to fulfil towards 
others — though the finest, the most sacred of all — I mean, a 
mother's love, is forbidden — nay ! denied to me ! 

" I could have wished for this feeling : for it would have 
given me the resting-place, of which I stand in need : and 
where, I fancy, I could have achieved something good, owing 
to the varied experiences, which through life I have gained 

" But dearest soul ! I am happy all the same ! Inex- 
pressibly happy : for have I not been favoured by fate with 
much more than I deserve, such as is vouchsafed to few here 
on earth ! . . . . 

" I left London for Paris, where I tumbled into the most 
fearful cholera epidemic. Thither my dear guardian came, 
in order that I might have a trusty soul about me. Then on 
June 13th we went to Brussels, and from there to Cologne, 
and have looked at the Rhine. Old fatlier Rliine ! how 
glorious it is, and ever will be ! Well, I had meanwhile sent 
my Swedish lady to London to pack up ; and to have my things 
sent to Sweden. But one day I went to see a renowned 
doctor at Coblentz, to consult him about my shattered nerves. 
He examined my head, and also my heart (which are, both, 
terribly fatigued), and then tokl me that, unless I nursed 
myself properly now, I should be liable to break down 
completely when I took up work again. He has utterly 
forbidden me to sing for six or eight months :' and has sent 


nie here for a fortnight, in preparation for four weeks at 
Ems. After Ems I am free until after October. But I wish 
to spend next winter in Sweden, where I have many matters 
to arrange. 

" Dear, kind, Amalia ! could not we meet somewhere ? 
Are you not in need of Ems ? Could we not go to Switzer- 
land ? .... or shall I come to Berlin or will you come to 
Ems ? or are we not to meet at all ? ? ? ? I have just 
received a letter from London, confirming the news of 

reappearance ! I am much surprised at 

this. May a gracious God preserve me from such a calamity 
as to come before the public as an old lady ! Eather bread 
and water ! While in Paris, I saw Meyerbeer, and his new 
opera. I was glad to see him again, for he has always been 
very good to me : but I prefer his earlier operas. 

" Will you please remember me to old Frau Beer ? And 
how is dear Professor Werder ? Has he completely forgotten 
me ? And old Frau Schroeder ? " (the porter's wife at the 
Wichmanns' house). " I love a person like that immensely ! 
I know nothing more beautiful than such a faithful old being, 
going about in a family, who really lives only in taking 
interest in what concerns her master's family, and in feeling 
for them and with them ! Greet this dear old soul ; and 
also good Nanke: and Frederic (the man-servant). It was 
my happiest time when I saw all this daily before me ! If I 
send no greetings to my Professor, or my beloved brothers, it 
is because it goes without saying. Everything that I have 
written here to you, is meant also for the father and his 
sons. God protect you all ! 

" Send a friendly answer, and then I shall know that you 
never could have doubted that I remain for ever and ever, 

" Your faithful, and sincerely loving, 

" Jenny Lind." 

The doubt that she refers to, arose from the long silence, 
for which the early part of the letter overwhelmingly 
apologises — an apology that has very frequently to be 
repeated in the course of Jenny Lind's correspondence. 
Nearly all her letters, even to her dearest friends, open 
with tliis theme. 

The letter itself is a delightful revelation of her intimate 

352 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. n. 

ties with this Berlin household. It displays her bright 
gaiety of heart : and, certainly, proves that she had not 
suffered any vital damage from the rupture of her engage- 

The doctor's verdict shows how merciful it was that she 
had not had the strain of another opera season in London 
laid upon her. The fatigue of the shattered nerves may, no 
doubt, have been partly due to the agonies of the conflict 
with Lumley, and of the decision in the matter of her 
marriage. But, still, the tired heart and tired head, of which 
she spoke at Norwich, were evidently no fancy of her own, 
but verv serious facts. She had been hard at work for so 
many years : and was now thoroughly exhausted. 

On July 14th she wrote to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer one of 
the confidential outpourings, which tell so much. In it, she 
says — 

" "What do you say of my having left the stage ? I cannot 
tell you in words how happy I feel about it. I shall sing in 
concerts so long as I have a voice ; but that only gives me 
pleasure ; and in this way I shall be able to work at least five 
years longer ; and that is necessary for me, as, for the last 
twelve months, I have sung only for institutions and 
charities. Without a beautiful goal, one cannot endure 
life. At least, / cannot. I have begun to sing what has long 
been the wish of my heart — Oratorio. There I can sing the 
music I love ; and the words make me feel a better being. 
See ! dear mother ! my career, in the future, will take this 
direction ; and my favourite idea be realised." 

From Schlangenbad she wrote to Madame Mendelssohn, 
apparently for the first time since his death. She apologises 
much for her long silence : for reopening a " wound, which 
yet can never heal : " and, then, breaks out — 

" His Elijah is sublime ! In my opinion he never wrote 
anything finer; and assuredly could not have written 
anything loftier in the future. With what solemnity we all 


stood there (to perform it) : and with what love do people 
still speak of him ! 

"How the good English have understood and absorbed 
this particular music ! As for myself, I sing it in quite a 
special mood. . . . 

" You cannot but feel grateful when you consider how 
much, and in what a lofty manner, you were esteemed and 
loved by a being, not only exceptionally endowed, but pure 
and original as he ! And further to have the happiness to 
feel that in you he found one by whom he could be carried 
through the turmoil of an artist's life, mtf FliXgeln des 
Gesanges! (so to say). May I say that not many, nay ! few only 
have understood him as I have done ! Do not consider me 
presumptuous in saying this : for all that is best in me is 
rooted in this conviction ! May we one day meet in this 
world : and, then a few words will suffice for us to under- 
stand one another. One day we all three shall meet 
together, and, then, it will be well with us ! God be with 
you, beloved lady, and do not forget, 

"Your sincerely loving, 

"Jenny Lind." 

Soon after this letter, she paid Madame Mendelssohn a 
visit at Creuznach on the Rhine : and another affectionate 
letter followed the visit : so that her long silence, since the 
death, was entirely explained, and the old memories came to 
a kind and satisfying close. She hoped still to work on 
behalf of the Mendelssohn scholarships. 

To Ems, for the present, she went from Schlangenbad : 
and, according to reports that reached Mrs. Grote, appeared 
soon to be in excellent health and in high spirits, enjoying 
a dance whenever opportunity offered. It was from Ems, 
on the 8th of August,^that she wrote a long letter again 
to Madame Birch-Pfeiffer full of the deepest personal 
interest. In it, she discloses her own interpretation of the 
strange animation that had followed on her exhausting 
struggles. Here are some extracts : — 

VOL. n. 2 a 


354 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. n. 

" Dearest Mother B. ! 

" You ask me, ' Are you, then, going to be married ? '' 
I answer, ' No ! never ! ' I have, indeed, greatly wished for 
it, for few have more strongly than I, the real inner feeling 
of a wife: and a deep blessing it would have been to me 
to have called a child 'my own.' And I had got very, very 
near to it lately in England, my dear mother ! but " 

And, then, she tells how many things told against it — 
how the young man was too young, and too gentle ; and how 
his mother was impossible : and how her whole art was a 
shut book to him : and yet how he touched her just because 
he embodied the English character, with its religious purity : 
" Ah ! dear mother, I love with my whole soul the 
English character!" But it has ended; they have parted,, 
and, now, it seems to her as if the affair had done her good^ 
rather than harm : 

" It has passed over my soul like a 1)eneficent storm which 
has broken down all the hard shell of my being, and has set 
free many green plants to find their way to the dear sun ! 
So that, now I am always clothed in green like the fairest 
hope ! And I see quite clearly how infinitely much there is 
for me to do with my life ; and I have only one prayer, 
that I may yet live long, and that, in the evening of my life,. 
I may be able to show a pure soul to God. 

" I am going quietly back to Sweden for next winter^ 
to take fresh measures on behalf of my school, and to wed 
myself wholly to well- doing, for which I am, finally, born, 
since it is the sense of man's worth which has ever drawn me 
most strongly, and has most richly filled my soul; and, if 
only I can come at all near my aims in this, then no one is 
more to be envied than I ! 

" You see, my future lies clear in front of me, my dear 
friend and mother ! " 

She goes on to ask, with devoted affection, for news of Minni 
(Madame Birch- Pfeiffer's daughter, who has kindly furnished 


us with this and other letters) to whom she pledges herself 
in lifelong sisterhood. And, at the end, she closes thus — 

*' Mother, I am glad and grateful from morning to night \ 
I do not feel lonely : and have no trace of ennui : and 
only find the days fly by too horribly quick. I have a 
blitheness in my soul, which strains towards heaven ! I 
am like a bird ; I do not feel the least changed, quite the 
contrary ; and the ' summa summarum ' is that I have won 
the greatest profit out of both outer and inner misfortune ; 
and can thank God that I know what trouble is ! All 
makes at last for good ! God does not die, dear mother." 

Her doctor, then, advised a grape-cure, at Meran in Tyrol, 
to complete her recovery: and thither she sets herself to 
draw the Wichmanns, proposing all sorts of ways by which 
they might all meet there. " You must not put yourselves 
out, dearest," she writes to Madame "VVichmann; "but it 
would be delicious if you did resolve to come to Meran." 
She proposes to be there from the middle of September ta 
the middle of October. And, finally, they did all settle 
together at Ober-Mais, a village just above Meran. Thither 
offers pursued her, as we learn from a letter of Herr 
Biittner, a Frankfort merchant who kindly looked after her 
many affairs in South Germany, to Herr Munthe, her 

" Mdlle. Jenny Lind has safely arrived at Meran, and is 
well and happy there. From everyvjhere they try to get 
our dear friend. A very big offer has come from England, 
higher than ever, and with every sort of guarantee. Last 
week an American has gone from here to Meran in order to 
induce her to go to New York. Well ! such an artist has 
never before existed ! May heaven grant her good health, 
and inward contentment ! " 

This was not the first time that America had crossed her 
mind. Already on the 13th of June, while in Paris, in a 
letter to Madame Schwabe, she begs her to ask Mr. Schwabe 

2 A 2 

356 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. ii. 

what his views would be on the possibility of her giving 
concerts in America. But nothing yet is settled. The whole 
party returned together in October, by way of Voralberg to 
Frankfort ; and, after parting there with her dear friends, she 
was taken from Frankfort to Hamburg, where she was to 
sing in some concerts. She wrote touchingly from there 
of the joy she had had in the intimacy of the Wichmanns 
during the stay at Meran together. The letter is dated 
October 29th. 

" My own dearest Amalia — 

"... I was greatly overcome when you all were 
gone ! I am, certainly, accustomed to be alone ; but I knit 
myself too quickly to people whom I love, and cannot, then, 
believe that I must lose them again! I had got so used 
to enjoying the happiness of being in your helpful com- 
panionship, and of seeing your domestic love, that I was 
sad indeed for the whole of Sunday ! You dear good 
people ! To think that you should permit me to be a partner 
in your happiness ! You cannot think how grateful I am 
for all this, dearest ! " 

At Hamburg, she stayed with Mr. Brunton, a Scotchman, 
in whose home she was received " with friendship and affec- 
tion." And while there a summons came to her, through the 
Wichmanns, from the King of Prussia, Frederick William IV., 
who had made her his Chamber-singer in 1847,* that she 
should come to Berlin, and sing to him and the Queen, 
on the Queen's birthday. Her loyal soul was touched by 
the message; she wrote back to Madame Wichmann, with 
kindled feeling : — 

" How deeply your letter went home to me, I cannot really 
tell you ! It cannot but move my very heart to think that 
His Majesty the King should be so gracious to me, and I 
shall account it the greatest joy if I can succeed in giving 
even the slightest pleasure to the Queen by my singing. . . . 

* See Book VIII., chap. I. 


Pray tell Count Eedern (through whom the request came) 
that I gladly obey the King's desire, and will be in Berlin by 
the 19th of this month (November). 

" Ah ! dear Amalia (so she closes her letter) I long after 
you all ! It remains true that it is with you, and yours, that 
I have spent the happiest days in my life ! " 

She sang in several concerts, during this November and 
December in Hamburg ; and one of these, with full orchestra, 
in the " Grosse Tonhalle " on November 22nd was given by 
Mr. Otto Goldschmidt, of whom she saw a good deal at this 
time. They did much music together. He played, and she 
sang; the memory of Mendelssohn was a strong common 
bond between them. Mr. Goldschmidt began to persuade her 
to sing again those songs of Mendelssohn's which, for two 
years, she had found it impossible for her to touch. He was 
charged with the musical spirit of his great master : and she 
recognised this. It was at this time that she received so 
distinct an impression of his gifts, that it was of him she 
first thought when, two years later, on her American tour, 
she found herself in want of one who could make up for the 
loss of Julius Benedict. So this visit to Hamburg was quietly 
" making history " for her after-life. 

She gave a concert at Altona for the benefit of Nannetta 
Falk, a young pianiste in whose interest she wrote to Madame 
Schumann : and there were four other concerts given at 
Hamburg, for herself, in one of which she sang in Haydn's 
Creation; and at two of these concerts it was Mr. Otto 
Goldschmidt who accompanied the songs. 

When the day of departure drew near she was amused 
and delighted to find an express messenger sent by the royal 
authority to convey her to Berlin in the shape of W. Taubert 
the distinguished Hof-Capellmeister, who had always been 
most friendly to her and in whom she greatly deKghted. 
" I cannot help laugliing with joy when I think of seeing that 

358 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. ii. 

dear man Taubert to-morrow. I confess that it gives me 
huge pleasure ! " So she wrote to " Amalia," 

To Berlin she came, under these happy conditions, staying 
in the beloved house of the Wichmanns : and singing before 
King and Queen. 

In the meantime, another King was pressing her hard to 
reverse her deep-seated decision, and to feel once again the 
boards under her feet. The pressure came in a form that 
would touch her profoundly. It was an appeal from her own 
King, Oscar I. of Sweden, to give a lift to her old home, the 
Eoyal Theatre at Stockholm, at the time of the festivities 
that were to be held, in the spring of 1850, on the occasion of 
the marriage of the Crown Prince Charles, afterwards King 
Charles XV. She was Court Singer; and in the service, 
therefore, of the King. And moreover, the appeal was trans- 
mitted through her old master Herr Berg, who had come 
across from Sweden, in November, on this mission, to meet 
her at Hamburg. The strength of her determination could 
not be more severely tested. Her innate loyalty, patriarchal 
in its simplicity, her home affections, her patriotism, her 
devotion to her old master, her deep instincts of obedience to 
authority — all radical elements woven into the very fibre of 
her character — must have all conspired to move her. Yet 
there is no record or sign of her having wavered for even a 
moment. We do not know that she consulted her friends. 
Her indecision, at momentous crises, was apt to betray her 
into many fluctuations, and to leave numerous traces behind 
it. But, on this occasion, there is not a note. We only 
know that Herr Berg was powerless. He had to retire, 
sailing home again from Liibeck on the 7th of December, 
whither she courteously escorted him herself.* A kindly 

* It was on this occasion that she wrote to Judge Miinthe about the 
deep memories, which the presence of her old master had recalled, in the 
letter quoted in vol. i. p. 50. 


letter, writteii on December 25th, in autograph, from the 
King closed the attempt : — 

" The Court-singer Berg has, on his return, informed me of 
the willingness with which you, Froken Lind, have declared 
yourself ready to appear, next year, at several concerts, in 
order that by your brilliant talent, you may render powerful 
assistance to our theatre. I recognise, in this, a fresh proof 
of Froken Lind's patriotic feelings, and of her warm sympathy 
■with the advancement of Swedish Lyric Art ; and I consider 
it a pleasant duty to express how keenly I appreciate this 
decision which is as disinterested as it is admirable. I look 
forward to seeing Froken Lind amongst us again next spring 
and remain with sincere goodwill, 

" Yours graciously, 


It is, indeed, a gracious letter, for the little word " Lyric," 
which occurs in it, is the signal that the original request, 
that she should allow herself to recur to the Opera, had not 
been conceded. Not King nor Country could induce her to 
reverse a conviction which had gone down to the roots of her 

oGO JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. in. 



LtJBECK, to which she had gone to accompany^Herr Berg 
homewards, was to hold her yet awhile ; and was to be the 
scene of that momentous decision which is to form the close 
of these volumes. She wrote, during her stay there, letters 
which carry with them much of her innermost mind. All 
together, it is a marked spot in her story. 

She seems to have been delayed there by an accident. 

" Dearest Amalia," she wrote on the day of Herr Berg's 
departure, " I write with no very bright spirits to you, for 1 
have no chance of seeing you and yours again so soon as I 
had hoped. My good Josephina has fallen ill. It is nothing- 
dangerous, thank God ! on the contrary, the doctor thinks 
that, after it is over, she may be better than she was before. 

" But you will understand well enough, that I cannot, and 
will not leave her. So that I shall not be able to be with 
you, my dear ones, by Christmas Eve, but must wait for the 
New Year, to knock at your door, . . . Ah ! write me some 
few words, before that, dearest, and say that you are still 
good to me, and how it goes with them all. 

" Your grateful, and loving 

"J. L." 

There she stayed : and, from there, just at this same 
moment, she wrote a long, and personal letter to her old 
friends, of whom we have heard before, — Baroness French 
and her daughter. She had suddenly had a letter from them. 

1849-50.] LUBECK. 36 J 

and this reminded her of her long silence ; and her heart is 
touched : and she offers eager and characteristic apologies. 

We leave her English just as she wrote it, because she 
herself apologises for its " funny " style, in the letter, and it 
will serve to show what was her command over the lan2[ua£re 
at that tune. The sentence on Madame Catalani shows how 
deeply that swift death had impressed her : — 

" My DEAK Madam " ^^^^^^^ *^^ ^^^ ^^ December, 1849. 

''I wish you really could see how pleased I am to> 
receive a few kind words from you and Miss Georgina. 
Accept my very best thank for the last letter. I must confess 
that I have safely got the one you were so kind to write me 
when I was at Ems. I was for a long time so very low- 
spirited. Madame Catalani stood always before my eyes, 
and her smiling face does still follow me very often. I thank 
you a thousand times, my dear Baroness, that you still re- 
member me so very kindly, although I have not given you 
any sign of life since long ago. I have long wished to write 
you a few words, but I had dropped your address at London, 
and did not know whether you were to return to that place 
or not. I very often think of my dear Miss Georgina, who I 
really love a great deal ! I hope that blessed sweet young 
lady is in perfect health. I wished very much to have the 
happiness of seeing yovi and your daughter very soon again,, 
my dear Madam, but I have no idea of going to England at 
present. You are very kind in asking about my head and 
health — I feel myself rather stronger, my head is very naughty 
at some times, but seldom to the highest degree. My nerves- 
are better, and I feel much less agitated and more quiet than 
before. I believe that my having left the stage may be the 
chief reason for this happy change ; my whole nature and my 
way of feeling was always very opposite to that sort of being,, 
who can bear the calumnies of a theatrical life. Can you 
understand my ' funny ' English, dear Madam ? 

" My good Miss Ahmansson, who is such a valuable and 
solid friend to me, is not at all well ! She is ill at this 
moment — she has got a sort of low ' fievre ' with small red 
(rouge) spots over her body (excuse my bad English, I don't 
know how to express myself in this medical case). It is 

^62 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. iii. 

nothing dangerous, but we are kept up in this little place for 
four weeks ; and it is really a good thing, that I don't much 
care for the world and its amusements ; for I should, if the 
case was contrary, feel rather lonely and tiresome ; but so, I 
am happy with my music, my little dog — my books — my 
study — and the great number of sublime rememljrances. We 
intend to go from here to Berlin, as soon as Miss Ahmansson 
will recover; we remain in Berlm a few weeks, I should 
think, and then we probably go to Russia ; I must try to get 
money ; I wonder how I will like that part of the world, and 
how that part of the world will like such a thing as myself ! 
In the month of May I return to Sweden, as I suppose, only 
for a short time, because my doctor will most likely get me 
to Ems once again ! I have sung (chante) a few times, and 
my voice is grown stronger and better. 

" I hope now, my dear Baroness, you have got plenty of news 
from me ! Will you kindly forgive my so much speaking of 
myself — but I do this only to persons I love and respect. 
Take not away your kindness and friendship towards me, 
-dear respected Madam, I entreat you ; and be assured that I 
think of you,and remember you with true and sincere affection ! 
My sister-love, and sister-blessing to Miss Georgina. Send 
me, sometimes, a few words which tell me about your health, 
and happiness ; for such kindness my heart will always feel 
thankful ! 

" I am, 

" Dear Madam, 

" Your most affectionate, 

" J. LiND." 

^' Little Beauty (her King Charles dog) is quite well ! " 

This letter is full of her most instinctive feelings. There 
is the old hunger to be assured, by visible token, that 
affections for her are still strong, with the haunting fear lest 
they should have ceased in absence ; while, after all, it turns 
■out that she herself, whether through lack of time, or 
possibly, through a dim sense of vague distrust, fails and 
forgets to keep communication constant. Certainly, her 
pleadings that the proofs of affection should not fail her. 

1849-50.] LtfBECK. 363 

are comically coupled with confessions that she has hope- 
lessly neglected to give corresponding evidence on her own 

Then, again, how noticeable is her sense of peace in 
having left the agitations of the stage behind her, when we 
remember that she so writes in the very act of despatching 
back Herr Berg to Stockholm, with the final answer to the 
invoking king. No disquiet ruffles the tranquil assurance 
that she is not that " kind of being who can endure the 
calumnies of the theatrical life." It is her old familiar manner 
of expressing her repugnance, such as we saw it at the first, 
when she opened her heart to Mrs. Grote. It is not the 
Drama as such on wliich she passes judgment. The dramatic 
power was still, to her, the gift put into her hands by 
God, for Whom she had used it. But "the caliminies" 
— the warfare, the strain, the anxiety — which the career 
involved — these are wholly opposite to her nature. She 
cannot bring herself to contemplate a return under their 
yoke ; her entire being is too happy in its release, to be even 
disturbed by the necessity of refusing where a refusal cost 
her dearest. So she remains very happy, with her music, 
her little dog, her books, and her store of splendid memories. 
Even though " her voice is grown stronger and better," she 
has no returning desire to exercise its sway in the manner in 
which it had won its chief triumphs. She seems to be 
perfectly satisfied with the range offered her by the concert 

But she needs money — not for herself, but for her great 
scheme of home charity. It is for this that she is contem- 
plating Eussia. What the overtures made to her on this 
matter were, she does not say ; but, as we shall see, the 
Eussian trip is, very soon, to be discarded in favour of a new 
proposal from the West. She writes, on January 8th, from 
Liibeck, to Madame Wichmann : — 

364 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. m. 

" I am not to go to Eiissia after all, for Eussia is thrown 
into the background by another big plan. But I shall come 
to you as was planned at first, though it be for only a short 

The " other plan " is indeed a big one. It is the great 
American tour. Through the person of his agent, Mr. J. H. 
Wilton, who has planted himself at her side, Mr. Barnum 
has come into action, and is pressing liis trip with the 
decision, the vigour, the imagination, the practical confidence 
which he knows so well liow to throw into a scheme. 

"We remember how the idea of America had floated before 
her ever since she left London ; and tentative American 
gentlemen had hovered about her, in her Meran retreat. 
But there is nothing floating, nothing tentative, in Mr. 
Barnum's conception of what is to be done. He sees, and 
knows, exactly what it is which can be achieved. He is 
absolutely resolute ; he has complete command of resources ; 
he is ready to give the most positive pledges, and liis ofier is 
not only generous — it is magnificent. Everything that she 
has dreamed of, will be possible to her, if she is free to 
apply to her schemes on behalf of poor children the splendid 
fruits which Mr. Barnum is prepared, confidently, and 
without reserve, to promise her. Three days later than his 
last letter, she writes to say that the thing is done; — the 
contract is signed. It was the largest contract, probably, 
that had then ever been made for such a purpose ; and had 
about it the stamp of that boldness which is so charac- 
teristic of its American author, who was the first to perceive 
the new and immense scale on which the world's amuse- 
ments could be carried out, now that steam, by sea and land, 
liad knit the vast population of the wide earth together into 
one mass, which could be dealt with as a single iwhole. This 
is Mr. Barnum's significance in history. He has gone liigh 
and low, in his actual range ; he has sometimes brought near 

1849-50.] LUBECK. 365 

to man a splendid gift like this voice of Jenny Lind ; he has, 
at others, dropped to providing them with food for the stupid 
gaze of mere blind wonder. But, always, he has understood 
the condition of his day. Always, he has seen that the same 
resources which have made the face of the earth a sinole 
market, can be turned to the purpose of making it also a 
single fair. Just as each of us now draws upon the whole 
world for food, so each of us may draw upon the whole world 
for joy. The railways, that hurry up to us the one, can 
equally convey the other. And as this new fact enlarges 
the scale of the world's market, so it will enlarge the scale of 
the world's fair. Enormous accumulations of population, 
and wealth, all united under the network of a world-wide 
commerce, can all be touched, at one time, by a single 
pleasure. Amusements, therefore, can now be universal, 
popular, democratic. They need no longer be confined to 
the few who can afford to pay high for them, paying 
higher because they are few ; for they can appeal, now, to 
a far larger purse than the wealthiest clique could ever 
possess — the deep purse of the multitudes upon multitudes, 
who, through minute subdivision of the general expense, can 
be cheaply brought together to taste enjoyment. This is the 
new era of man's recreation. We have, now, become fully 
familiar with the wonders that it can achieve. And this 
familiarity may blind us to the immense social change which 
is represented by the fact that the best and rarest gifts can 
now be brought within the experience of the masses. The 
recognition of this possibility constitutes a real event in 
history ; and we must credit Mr. Barnum with being 
the first to take the true measure of the capabilities for 
popular pleasure which the mechanical advances of the age 
had opened out ; and more than that, with having had the 
courage to make a tremendous venture on the strength of his 
own calculations of what had become feasible. The American 

366 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. nu 

tour of Jenny Liud was one of the very earliest manifesta- 
tions of this modern characteristic. 

And, moreover, it signalised the extension of scale which, 
in this, as in so many matters, the immense size of the 
United States would introduce into the imagination of 
Europe. It is, thus, famous on its own account, even apart 
from being an incident in her life. Through her name it was 
that here, in Europe, we, for the first time fully understood 
what could be done in the way of expanding broadly the 
range of public enjoyment. 

To this contract Jenny Lind engaged herself, while seated 
alone, in the Hotel du Nord, Liibeck, with no one but 
Mdlle. Ahmansson. She was accustomed to mistrust her 
own judgment, and to take much counsel ; but, here, she 
seems to act with free decision. No doubt, she was in 
communication with Herr Munthe, her guardian; from 
Liibeck letters passed easily to Stockholm. The "Wichmanns 
do not appear to have been consulted, as we see from her 
letter hinting that "a great new plan" was displacing 
Eussia. It was a big venture for her to make alone, even 
with the written sanction of her guardian. But there is no 
sign of it weighing on her mind, or of any hesitation or 
fluctuation. She carried on the necessary correspondence, 
putting herself, by the help of Mr. Benedict, into communi- 
cation with Mr. Bates, of the firm of Baring Brothers, London, 
from whom she obtained assurances of Mr. Barnum's stability 
and position. Belletti, too, was in London at the time, and 
both to him, and to Benedict, she wrote constantly, as the 
nesrotiations went on. 

Here is the contract itself, in its chief points. It is 
preceded by a letter from Mr. Bamum to his agent, authorising 
him to enter into the engagement with Miss Jenny Lind, 
including also a " tenor and a pianist." Eor the pianist, 
Julius Benedict was secured, the musician so well known to 

1849-50.] LtJBECK. 367 

all in England ; instead of " the tenor," she herself pleaded 
for, and obtained, the help of her old helpmate, and counsellor, 
Giovanni Belletti, the famous baritone, who had been one of 
the first, in quite old days, to inspire her with a sense of 
what a high artistic style might mean. 

The contract is made between J. H. Wilton, as agent for 
Phineas Barnum as the one party, and Froken Jenny Lind, 
as the other. In it, she agrees to sing at one hundred and 
fifty concerts, including Oratorios, within the space of one 
year, if possible, or eighteen months, counting from the day 
of her arrival in New York ; the concerts are to be given in 
the United States and Havannah. She is to have full power 
regarding the numher of evenings or concerts in each week, 
at which she would sing, as well as over the number of pieces 
sung by her ; only that the concerts were not to be less than 
two a week, nor the pieces sung less than four. All was to- 
be regulated in accordance with the preservation of her 
health, and voice. There is an express stipulation that she 
shall in no case have to appear in Opera. 

In consideration of these services, she is to have all ex- 
penses paid for journeys and hotels, both for herself and for a 
lady companion and a secretary ; besides this, she is to b& 
allowed a maid and a servant at her own disposal, and a 
carriage and pair ; and £200 (or 1000 dollars) for every 
concert or oratorio in which she sings. A guarantee 
for all this is to be deposited with Baring Brothers, in 
London, before her departure ; and it will be paid according 
to the manner in which she fulfils the engagements under- 

Over and above this sum secured, Mr. Barnum ensfaered 
that after the first seventy-five concerts or oratorios — if those 
have already paid aU expenses incurred, and capital and out- 
lay expended on the undertaking; and have, moreover, 
secured to him in clear gain, a total of £15,000 — he would. 

368 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. in. 

pay over to her a fifth part of the receipts for the remaining 
seventy-five concerts. 

It is agreed that if, after fifty concerts, these conditions 
fail to realise the success expected, she shall consent to reor- 
ganise the agreement in accordance with a previous offer of 
Phineas Barnum, a copy of which was enclosed. There 
follows the agreement to pay Julius Benedict a sum of 
£5,000 to be satisfactorily secured to him— together with 
all his expenses, he engaging himself to act as musical 
director, pianist, and accompanist, for all the one hundred 
tind fifty concerts. And, in accordance with Jenny Lind's 
selection of an assistant artist, at her request, and for her 
convenience, the baritone Giovanni Belletti is to have £2500, 
with all expenses, for singing during the whole tour. 

There is a special and noticeable stipulation, that Jenny 
Lind shall "have perfect freedom whenever she feels 
inclined," to sing for charitable purposes, independently of 
her present engagement ; only she is to consult him as to 
times, and places, "with regard to their reciprocal conve- 
nience " ; and in no place, may she so sing, until after two 
concerts have been given there under her engagement to him. 
The remaining stipulations are of the usual type; they 
provide against her being incapacitated from singing, 
" through some decree of the Divine will," as well as against 
her engaging herself to smg for anyone else, except for a 
charitable purpose; they engage that Phineas Barnum do 
pay the expenses connected with the concerts themselves ; 
and they pledge her to start for America from Liverpool 
by the last steamer in August, or the first in September, 1850. 

So it runs ; and it is signed and sealed, by the two parties, 
on January 9, 1850, in the presence of the Consul for 
Sweden and Norway, Mr. C. A. Nolting. 

On the basis of this contract, she sailed for America ; but 
two days after her arrival at New York Mr. Barnum, 

1849-50.] LJJBECK. 36^ 

on his o^vn initiative, tore it up in her presence, and proposed 
to her a new form of it, with several amendments made to 
meet her wishes. Her astonishment and delight at this 
generous treatment are recorded in Barnum's ' Autobio- 
graphy,' p. 109 ;* and Mr. Frith, in liis memoirs,t has told 
his memory of her own version of it, given him at a dinner- 
party where he met her. The chief alterations were (1), a 
half share of profits whenever the receipts of a concert were 
above 5,500 dollars ; (2), a careful stipulation in ^dew of 
the American climate not suiting her voice ; and (3) her rio-ht 
to give up after sixty concerts — or again after one hundred 
concerts, with fixed penalties in either case. 

Of this last right, she availed herself at the close of the 
ninety-third concert. Mr. Barnum himself ^vrote to her, 
proposing to relinquish the remaining seven concerts, which 
would complete the full hundred. There were many reasons 
why she was anxious, by that time, to be free from the 
necessities of such a bond ; and the success of the tour had sa 
far surpassed every possible anticipation, that Mr. Barnmn 
was well satisfied with the triumphs and the profit that had 
already been reaped. They parted the best of friends ; and 
she, then, gave forty more concerts on her own speculation, i.e., 
nineteen during the month of June and July, 1851, in New 
England, and twenty-one more during October, November, and 
December, in Canada, Illinois, &c., winding-up with Boston 
and Pliiladelphia, at which town she sang, on December 13th, 
the last concert that she ever gave under her maiden name of 
Jenny Lind. 

Such was the general issue of this Liibeck contract. The 
offer, made and secured, was certainly magnificent, and it 
may be well here to recall the motives with wliich she 

* Authorised edition, Buffalo, 1889, 

t Cf. Frith's ' Autobiography and Eeminiscences,' Sec, Ed, 1887. vol ii 
p, 318, 

VOL. II. 2 B 

370 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. iii. 

accepted, and fulfilled it. None of it was intended to be 
taken for any personal use. She was set on other aims 
— above all, on her endowment of a hospital for poor 
children. , She carried out her intention with care and fidelity. 
Apart from the concerts on behalf of special charities, and 
apart from her own endless gifts to charitable purposes 
during the royal progress through the States, the entire sum 
gained was thrown into a " private or separate fund," which 
was kept clear and distinct to the end of her life, and was 
finally left by her will, to be administered by trustees, for 
certain definite purposes. Only twice did she ever consent, 
in after years, to dip into the capital for her own benefit ; 
in the first case, it was for the sake of a small purchase of 
land, the value of which could be realised and was, as a fact, 
returned to the fund. In the second instance she bought the 
cottage with its plot of mountain land on the Malvern Hills, 
at which she spent such happy holidays during the last few 
years of her life, and in which she died. The purposes laid 
down by her will, for the final distribution of the fund, which 
in its original form stood at about £20,000, include a sum 
of 50,000 Swedish crowns to the University of Upsala and 
another equal sum to the University of Lund.* These monies 
are to take the shape of scholarships to poor students under a 
scheme passed by the trustees. The balance of the fund, 
after the various deductions, to which it was liable before and 
after her death, have been discharged, will go to a Children's 
Hospital at Stockholm, of which she so often has spoken. 

The interest of the fund, during her life, was largely 
pledged to the innumerable pensions for which she made 
herself responsible, in her native land. 

We must, however, go back, from these afternotes, to the 
hotel at Lubeck. There she remained, after the contract was 

* To neither scholarship did she give her own name.. That at Upsala 
■was named after Geijer, that at Lund afterjBp. Tegner. 

1849-50.] LtJBECK. 371 

settled, apparently with great contentment. She saw her 
way, now, ahead for the next two years; she had full 
proof that the abandonment of the drama would not cut her 
off from adequate opportunities of exercising her art. A 
career was assured her, in the concert-room, which would 
fulfil all her aims, both as an artist, to enrich the world 
by her splendid gifts, and, as a woman, to endow the poor by 
her generosity. She might look forward, with security, and 
peace. Nothing which she valued was lost, as she felt; 
while much that she detested, had been thrown aside. She 
records ber satisfaction to Madame Wichmann in a letter 
written on January 12th : — 

" Hotel du Nord, Liibeck, 
"January 12, 1850. 

"Beloved Amalia! 

(First page entirely personal.) 

* * * * "I now wish to give you a clear 

idea of my future plans, so that you — and all yours may 

know the truth and be able to distinguish the facts from 
mere reports. 

" I have decided to go to America. The offer from there 
was very brilliant, and everything was arranged so nicely, 
that I would have been wrong in declining it; and since 
I have no greater wish than to make much money in order to 
found schools in Sweden, I cannot help looking upon this 
journey to America as a gracious answer to my prayer to 
Heaven ! 

" I shall be able to gain there in the course of one or two 
years a very large fortune, and, after three years, should not 
require to sing a note unless I wished to do so. My heart 
resisted my going to England at the present time ; and indeed 
it is heavily weighted and I often have a hard time of it ; 
now I need not think of England and I feel quite relieved, 
since three days ago I signed the contract. Herr Benedict 
(son of the M. Benedict you saw at Meran) comes with me 
and you could not meet with a more honourable man or 
better friend, and at the same time with a more reliable 
musician. An old friend of mine, Signor Belletti, goes also. 

2 B .2 


372 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. hi. 

He is a distinguished singer, and we have known one another 
from old times in Sweden, for the last twelve years. In short, 
nothing could have been arranged more admirably. I gave 
over at once any plans as to Eussia, and did so gladly ; for 
Josephine could not have stood a Eussian journey .... 
So now we remain — and more particularly Josephine — 
here in Liibeck until we take the first steamer leaving for 
Stockholm, which I hope will be in April. Then I go home 
— sing there a few times in concerts (as I have promised my 
King to do), make arrangements in view of my long absence 
from Sweden, and leave Stockholm again the last day of 
June or the beginning of July, in order to go through a 
' Milch Kur ' somewhere (only not too far away). Tliis 
I must have concluded by the middle of August in order 
to leave for Liverpool, there to take the steamer for America 
the first days of September ! It would be something soothing 
and strengthening to my feelings, if I could pass the latter 
weeks of my stay in Europe in your company, my beloved 
friends. I therefore need not say furtlier, how I should 
rejoice loudly (Germ.: 'himmelhoch jauchzen') were such 
a prospect open to me. I should much like to go to 
Salzburg ! but more of this when we meet at Berlin ; for I 
fancy I shall come to you at about the end of February, or 
beginning of March. I shall probably soon pay a visit of 
some days at Hanover, in order to sing for the good Crown 
Prince; I have been so much urged to go there, that I 
mean to comply with the request. 

" Well ! I hope I have now told you something about us, 
and that, besides, you know now that we do not go during 
the winter to Sweden. Greet my beloved revered father I 
Greet the brothers also, and the good Schroder! When 
shall I receive the letter from her? How good it was of 
Hermann to write to me ! and how clearly do I see the 
scene on Christmas-eve at your home ! We also had a 
Christmas-tree ! Good people here are fond of us. Next 
Thursday, the 17th, I am giving — a concert, you think ? 
Nay, a children's ball ! and 1 look forward to it with a 
right royal joy ! 

" Farewell, beloved soul. Preserve to me your inestimable 
love, as I remain for life 

" Your ever grateful and loving 

" Jenny. 

1849-50.] LUBECK. 373 

Her Christmas-tree! That was what she could never 
miss : all through her life, she loved, like a child, the home- 
feast, the children's fun of Christmas-tide. Those who knew 
her can recall no scene to which she could more deliciously 
abandon herself with brimming joy than a children's dance 
at Christmas. All the old Swedish merriment and motion 
would bubble up in her at such a time : and her face would 
laudi all over with exuberant humour, and her whole body 
seemed to dance. She had a gaiety that was infectious : and 
no wonder, that she managed to make even a Liibeck hotel 
merry with her radiance. " Good people here are fond of 
us," she writes — and moreover it may possibly have added 
to the pleasure of the Ball that young Mr. Otto Gold- 
schmidt came over to it from Hamburg; and danced with 
her many a time. The painful memories of the last English 
visit are still heavy upon her heart ; and she is profoundly 
relieved to think that she is not called upon for the present 
to face scenes so charged with recent trouble. All, therefore, 
is smiling. The American tour offers just the escape which 
she needs : and, in the meantime, she is pleasantly employed 
in a series of concerts, in the North German towns, one of 
which becomes the opening of a friendship which had a deep 
interest for her, and which accompanied her path far on into 
life. She sang at Hanover on January 29th, and the King and 
Queen* returned "enraptured, and overpowered" from hearing 
her in her Swedish songs ; and her Majesty the Queen has 
graciously put together for this book, from her diary, her own 
record of the intimacy which that concert initiated. She tells 
how " her relations with this gifted and noble-minded artist 
form one of the pleasantest recollections of her life." It was 
not, indeed, the first time that she had heard her sing : for she 
had been present in March, 1845, when she sang " Norma," 
and in June, 1846, when she gave " La Sonnamhda " — 

* I.e. of Hanover. 

374 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. in. 

"■ I shall never forget," her Majesty writes, " the touching 
and elevating impression which the incomparable singer 
produced on all those present, even on those least easily 
moved, by her exalted conception of these parts. She made 
of ' Norma,' in the most wonderful manner, a sublime female 
figure and prophetess, so that the part became, throughout, a 
perfect and glorious new creation. No eye remained dry 
while listening to the magic of this divine voice which stirred 
to the innermost even those who sang with her. In a word, 
such emotions can never be repeated." 

So it had been ; and, now, in 1850, their Majesties saw 
an opportunity of making acquaintance with one whom 
already they so higlily admired. 

" Several times," the Queen records, " the King and I had 
the unspeakable happiness of hearing the lovely ' Northern 
Nightingale,' as he always called her, sing to us at home, in 
a small and intimate circle ; and we were, of course, from 
that time forth, quite under the fascination of her lofty and 
religious spirit. For my dear husband especially, with his 
deep feeling, his vivid imagination, and his great mental 
gifts, these days of musical delight remained for long in his 
memory, as a source of unclouded joy. 

" From Hanover, Jenny Lind went to Gottingen, and then came 
back to us, to say good-bye. She told us, with real delight, 
and in the joyous childlike manner so peculiarly her own, 
how greatly the fresh enthusiasm of the young students at 
the University had gratified her. They had unharnessed the 
horses from her carriage after the concert, and had dragged it 
to the hotel with endless shouts of joy : and, then, had 
serenaded her, so that she had had to raise her voice in 
thanks to them from the balcony. Enthusiastic shovits of 
applause had gone up again and again from a thousand throats, 
together with a perfect shower of flowers." 

The concert, to which the Queen refers, was given on 
February 4th. Jenny Lind had sung for herself on the 2nd 
and she gave this second concert for the poor. It was, 
indeed, one of her wonderful triumphs ; she swept the 
students into a storm of rapturous enthusiasm by her de- 

1849-50.] LUBECK. 375 

livery of Menclelssolm s " Eheinisches Yolkslied," throwing into 
the last stanza, with its outburst of arch and ringing delight 
— " Jugend, o schone Eosenzeit ! " — an energy, and a glow, 
which were absolutely irresistible. The F-sharps that occur 
so frequently in the song would lend themselves to the most 
exciting capabilities of her voice; and then her look of 
archness, her surrender of herself to the swing and the 
motion of the music as it broke out on the high notes, her 
speed, and her thrill, and her power of personal magic 
— Ah ! no wonder that the Gottingen students lost their 
heads that evening. 

She was elected, by the enthusiastic students, a member of 
a famous guild of theirs, known as the " Burschenschaft 
Hannovera," which, at that particular date, was enjoying 
a period of special success. She became a " Sister- Associate," 
and was presented with the red, white, and green ribbon of 
the guild. Her portrait was hung up in their Assembly 
Eoom. On her leaving Gottingen on February 5th the whole 
guild accompanied her to Nordheim, a distance of four hours, 
where a halt was made at the inn " The Sun," and ad- 
dresses delivered, in return for which she sang several songs 
for a farewell. She sent off to a small shop in the town, and 
bought green and white ribbon, which she tore up into small 
shreds and gave each student a piece. So freely and delightedly 
did she surrender herself to the glow and the fun of this 

A few days later she received a silk ribbon, of the guild 
colours, on which were inscribed the thirty-two names of the 
students who had sent it. She wrote, on the 13th February, 
the following reply : — 

" Gentlemen, 

" I accept, with sincere gratitude, the ribbon which you 
have sent me : and shall preserve it faithfully to my dying 

S76 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. hi. 

" Even without this outward tokeu, the 5th of February, 
1850, would have remained engraven on my memory with 
indelible letters of gold; but, nevertheless, I regard the 
ribbon with pride and joy, well aware of the honour thereby 
conferred upon me. Oh ! that the sun may often shine as 
softly upon us all as it did on that day, though such moments 
cannot often be a mortal's lot ! Let us then retain their 
memory, long after youth has forsaken us ! 

" And so I once again stretch out my hand to you all, even 
from a distance, as a loving sister; in the hope that you 
will accept indulgently these poor and inadequate words of 

" May Heaven protect you all ! That is the prayer of your 
grateful, and deeply moved 

"Jenny Lind." 

She was faithful to her word : for the ribbon was found, 
preserved among her memorials, after her death. The escort 
to Nordheim, with its boyish gaiety is still vividly remem- 
bered by those who took part in it.* 

She came back to Hanover to sing for the poor on the 9th, 
after a concert on the 7th at Bremen. "The Good-bye," 
which she then said to the Queen of Hanover was but the 
beginning of a friendship which so well illustrates her char- 
acter, and has so much of interest in itself, that we venture 
to insert, at this place, all that the Queen has kindly recorded 
for us of this after intimacy, even though it carry us far 
beyond the limits of time set us in this book. The personal 
warmth and affection of the Queen's memories will more 
than compensate to the reader for the breach that we are 
compelled to make in the continuity of our story. 

" Our second meeting with Jenny Lind," continues the 
Queen, " took place several years later in the island of 
Norderney where she, in company with a dear old friend from 
Hamburg, spent the season with us." 

* Dr. Lichtenberg, of the Gennan Hospital, London, who well 
remembers the scene, has kindly reviewed for us a record of the day, made 
by one who is now a Judge of a superior court, in North Germany. 

1849-50.] LVBECK. 377 

The visit was in the autumn of 1854, two years after her 
marriase with Mr. Goldschmidt, and the friend was Mdlle. 
Seminoff, the step-daughter of the Mr. Brunton with whom 
she had stayed at Hamburg, in October, 1849. Her father, 
Mr. K J. Lind, was with her during tliis visit. 

" This was the highest point of our friendship with this 
gifted soul ; for she came to us daily in the morning, telling 
us stories out of her full life, or interchanging ideas with us 
whereby we could fully estimate the depth and purity of her 
feelings, the greatness of her mind. Often in the midst of 
our conversation, she jumped up and sat down at the piano, 
and her sinoinfj at that time was more full of soul, if possible, 
than at other times. 

" What a powerful effect the following little episode had 
on us ! My youngest daughter, Mary, then scarcely three 
years old, was on my arm while I stood beside the piano. 
The child listened attentively to the heavenly song, then 
suddenly she threw her arms round my neck and burst into 
tears ! ' That is my greatest triumph ! ' cried Jenny Lind, 
greatly moved. 

" Oh ! those happy hours, spent with her, flew but too 
quickly by, but the remembrance of them lives to this day, 
unchanged, in my heart. 

" In the afternoon, when we took our walk on the shore, 
Jenny Lind sometimes accompanied the King on horseback. 
She rode very well ; and took great pleasure in these excur- 
sions. She also seemed much pleased when we visited her, 
and her dear old friend, in their pretty fishing-cottage. She 
frequently came to supper, after which we generally had 
some music ; and I even had the delight of singing duets with 
her, of which I was not a little proud. 

" For our sake, Jenny Lind remained in Norderney till the 
end of our stay there, and then returned with us to Hanover. 
On the steamer that took us all to Bremen, she was in such 
ecstacy at the beauty of the North Sea, that she began to 
sing Taubert's song ' Voglein, was singst im Walde,' and when 
she came to the line, ' Ich muss nun einmal singen,' her 
voice sounded clear as a bell over the noise of the waves. 
We were all completely electrified by the overpowering im- 
pression, and the tears ran down from my dear husband's 
eyes. In Hanover, our two fellow-travellers rested some 

378 JENNY LINJ). [bk. ix. ch. hi. 

hours under our roof, and when the sad hour for parting 
struck, our hearts were quite heavy. 

" The next time we met was in Diisseldorf, at the great 
musical festival of the Ehine, when the Elijah was performed 
under the conductorship of her amiable and talented husband 
in 1863. It was in this Elijah that we heard for the last 
time the voice of our dear Northern Nightingale. The 
magnificent scene between the widow and Elijah, which she 
sang with Stockhausen, was one of the most powerful and 
heart-stirring performances we ever heard : and the excellent 
conducting of Mr. Goldschmidt contributed greatly to the 
perfection of the whole j^erformance." 

The friendship, so sustained, reappeared at the great crisis 
when the storm broke, upon the throne of Hanover, in the 
great Austro-Prussian War. 

" In the most sadly eventful days of my life, in June, 1866 
(writes the Queen), our dear Mr. and Mrs. Goldschmidt came, 
once again to Hanover, and spent two evenings with us in 
the Castle of Herrenhausen. As Mrs. Goldschmidt was too 
hoarse and fatigued to sing to us, she expressed the wish to 
hear my little choir of twenty persons, which Herr Lindhult, 
my daughter's singing master, had taught and led for several 
years. We had just studied several new choruses for the 
eve of my dear husband's birthday, the 26th May ; and 
amongst others, ' Die Traume ' by Lindblad. This charming 
composition, which she had, till then, never heard, specially 
interested our critics. We were called upon to repeat it; 
and we all did so with real enthusiasm. And, then, there 
was the Trio of the Angels, from the Elijah, sung by myself, 
my daughter Frederika, and Fraulein Hausmann, — that was 
our swan-song ! 

" The next day, the poor sorely -tried King, with my son, 
joined the army at Gottingen ; the distressing events which 
followed are a matter for history. My husband repeatedly 
told me, in later days, that the sound of those choruses ac- 
companied him like tones of consolation, through the saddest 

It is impossible to refrain from adding the few last words 
in which the Queen relates her last sight of her friend, even 
though it was as late as 1876. It was in London. 

1849-5a] LUBECK. 379 

" We had scarcely alighted at Claridge's Hotel when to my 
great joy I received a letter from Mrs. Goldschmidt, asking 
whether she might be allowed to come and see us. We re- 
ceived her with open arms, and remained three hours together, 
exchanging sad and joyous reminiscences. I was sorry to 
perceive an expression of pain on her dear sensitive features. 
The same thing must have struck her in the countenance of 
my beloved husband ; and both are now removed from all 
earthly ills ; and enjoy eternal rest above. My loved King 
has attained the crown of everlasting life, which cannot be 
taken away from him ; and our dear friend joins her voice to 
the choir of Angels, who sing eternal praise to God. 

(Signed) "Marie. E." 

Such was the depth, and warmth, of that intimacy which 
sprang up during those winter months in 1850, when the 
Hotel du Nord in Liibeck was the centre of so much quiet 
activity. It illustrates the character of the attraction she 
exercised over people of high cultivation. They were drawn 
towards a personality which broke through her song, even as 
it mingled with it ; and which spoke to them of that which 
would, when the music had died away, abide as an enduring 
basis of friendsliip to which they would turn in time of 
spiritual need. This personal element in her is never separate 
from the artist's gift, but, rather, it is so inwoven with it that 
the singing has the same sort of personal effect upon the 
hearers as the innate character has, so that when she sings, it 
is the exaltation of character to which men seem to be Ksten- 
ing ; and when the voice is gone, and she remains with them 
as a friend, she seems to them as if she still were singing. 
The Queen of Hanover's record conveys the impression that 
she felt the same effect from the presence of Jenny Lind, 
whether she sang or whether she did not. 

But we must return to Liibeck, and pick up the thread of 
our story again. She sang on February 9 th at Hanover for 
the poor; at Oldenberg on the 12th and at Bremen on tlie 

•380 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. hi. 

20tli; again at Hanover, for charity, on the 25th; and at 
Brunswick on the 27th, where she received two illuminated 

She was refusing, during this time, some offers from Berlin 
which were so magnificent that she calls them " shameless " 
for her to accept : and she was greatly occupied with anticipa- 
tions of the American trip. 

" Dearest Amalia," she wrote on February 14, " I know 
well the goodwill of the Herr von Kiistner,* and am grateful 
from my very heart ; but indeed it can never be to my mind 
to accept such shameless terms in Berlin : and I can, under 
no conditions, entertain his kind proposals. I can only stay 
a very short time in Berlin ; I cannot help this. And I 
shall only sing twice in all — once for the poor (as I have 
already promised Frau Alexander Mendelssohn), and once 
(but this is between ourselves) for poor Herr Hendrichs f who 
has been so ill, and, after that, I sing no more. I have so 
much to think of, about America. And then, I cannot leave 
my Josephine too long alone ! " 

On the 23d of February she wrote again : 

" Dearest, you must not be angry with me, if I cannot get 
to Berlin until the middle of next week. 

"I am hunted and harried like a poor hare , . . But, 
after all, I enjoy nothing but friendliness, so that I were 
thankless, indeed, if I were not satisfied, in spite of all the 
bother. I have had also to put off a concert on account of 
headache, and am, therefore, two daj's later than I meant 
. . . Do not turn against me, but remain ever kind to me. 

" Jenny." 

She got to her concert at Brunswick on the way to Berlin, 
and the address received there, is remarkable for its graceful 
expression : — 

* The Intendant. ' Cf. vol. i. p. 32i. 

t An actor at Berlin in whom she took much interest. 

1849-50.] LUBECK. 381 

" For the first time Brunswick has had the good fortune to 
receive you within its walls ; and your appearance has been 
greeted by a blue sky, and by radiant sunshine. As that 
bright sun sends joy and gladness into men's hearts, so does 
your singing stir and delight everyone who has the joy of 
hearing it ; and, at the same time, you have bestowed a royal 
gift upon the poor and needy of a town to which you were 
yourself a stranger. 

" Sweden's great King tendered a helping hand to his hard- 
pressed German brethren ; and his memory will live as lono- 
as the German tongue endures. 

" The memory also of Sweden's great singer, of Sweden's- 
noble maiden, will never die in our grateful town ! 

/ " Feb. 27th, 1850." 

She sang for a charitable fund, part of which was given to 
the pensions of the Ducal orchestra ; and received a second 
address, on her favourite day, March 7th, in which " the 
Queen of Song" is thanked, with ardour, for her royal 
munificence ; and is honoured, not only as "an incompar- 
able artist " but also for " her nobility of character," and 
" her compassionate heart." So she passed to Berlin. 

By the opening of March, she found herself ensconced in 
the house which was so dear to her, in the old room so 
crowded with earlier associations, encompassed about with 
that home- warmth which she cherished with all the powers 
of her soul. Everybody in the house was taken to her hearty 
from her " father " at the top, to the servants, and porters, 
whom she remembers in her letters. She sang on the 8 th for 
charity : and she seems to have been persuaded to throw in 
another concert, for the same good purpose, on the 13th, 
postponing her concert for Herr Hendrichs until the 18th, 
after a rapid journey to sing at Dresden on the 15th. She 
was in excellent force at this moment. " My voice is 
behaving well, thank God," she wrote from BerKn on the 
13th to her guardian, Herr Munthe. " And what a joy it is 
to see the people so satisfied ! Always the houses are 

382 JIJNNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. hi. 

crowded. And what an amount I have srot tocjether for 
the poor, by singing, during these few weeks ! Yes ! Praise 
be to God ! " Such was her own simple account of what 
was happening. Let us hear from others what they were 
thinking. In the Deutsche Allgcmcine Zcitung, at Leipzig, a 
notice appears of the Berlin concert of March 8th. The 
^vriter goes, that he may once again offer himself to the 
wonderful magic of her voice and presence. He can tell of 
the crowd, of the price of the tickets, of the excitement : but 
of her singing itself, he will not speak a word. What could 
be said, has been said ; and as to the strange, overwhelming 
power of her tones, no words can ever avail to portray 
it. Only so much will he say — that, far from the strain of 
time having told upon it, it is fresher, and stronger than 

" And, then, the unspeakable charm of the rendering, the 
deep truth of the expression, the wonderful grace of the 
nature so profoundly harmonious and artistic — that is all 
unchanged ! " The mastery with which she sang the Italian 
pieces from the Puritani, and the Turco in Italia, made him 
reo-ret all the more that she does not sing " the German 
music, which she loves ; for in the rendering of this music, 
which depends, above all, on feeling and inner spirit and 
taste, she is unsurpassed." She was altogether magical " in 
her singing of Meyerbeer's duet ' La Grand'mere ' — and 
the pianos at its close could not possibly have been rendered 
more gracefully and more exquisitely. But the crown of the 
evening was her rendering of the songs — Schumann's ' An den 
Sonnenschein' — Lindblad's ' Schlottfegerbub,' and Taubert's 
' Ich muss nun einmal singen.' Those who have once heard 
her sing these, can never forget them ! With her usual 
willingness, she added, after the encore, one of the original 
ballads of her country ; and though the words were foreign, 
no one could mistake the meaning. It was one of the most 

1849-50.] LiJBECK. 383 

delicious evenings wliicli Berlin has enjoyed during this 
winter season." 

Here is another delicate record of the impression she 
produced on a cultivated hearer on the Berlin visit. It is a 
letter written by Professor Jiingken, a famous physician 
attached to the Court of Berlin, in answer to inquiries about 
her from her anxious friend, Professor von Jager, in Vienna. 

" For a month," he writes, " the town was on the stretch 
for the arrival of Jenny Lind. For a month had the 
Wichmanns engaged her her rooms ; at last, she appeared ! 
We saw her first at a brilliant soiree at Count Eedern's 
which all the royalties now in Berlin honoured with their 
presence. The Lind, as soon as she caught sight of me, 
came across to me, and her first question was ' How are the 
Jagers ? They have written to me about you. Tell me 
a great deal about them ! ' 

" Two days after this, we heard her at a concert. She is, 
certainly, a marvellous apparition, with an attraction that 
is irresistible. Her voice is very beautiful ; her deliverance 
is noble ; but her play of expression ! — that is positively be- 
witching. She will sing no more on the stage ; but, "then, 
there lies in her eyes, in her mien, an expressiveness which 
is equal to the most perfect acting. It is a delight indeed to 
listen to her ; but a still greater delight to sec her sing. Her 
deliverance of her songs is, undoubtedly, unsurpassable, and 
it is peculiarly her own. I have heard greater artists than 
the Lind; and, for instance, the Eossi (Madame Sontag) 
stands on a grander level of art. But I have never heard but 
one Lind, nor any artist who knew better how to fascinate. 

" A day before her departure, Madame Wichmann was 
good enough to ask us to tea alone with the Lind, where we 
delighted ourselves for a couple of hours with her in the 
highest possible degree, and learnt to know what a really 
charming and dear child she is. I had to tell her everything 
about your family, your fortunes, your affairs, she would 
know it all." 

Nor did Herr PteUstab fail to offer his tribute. Indeed, he 
proudly welcomes the wonderful singer back from her 
European fame to the scene of those first triumphs, which he 

384 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. hi. 

had himself so enthusiastically saluted. Berliners cannot 
forget, he writes, in the Berlin. Zeitung of the 10th of March, 
that the first tones of that world-famous voice, ■which now 
rings, like a bell, wide over land and sea, were heard, by those 
outside her native home, at Berlin on that day in December, 
1844, when she sang to us her " Norma." She returns now as 
to a genuine home — to be greeted as a daughter whom they 
had seen, with joy and pride, go abroad to try her worth in 
the world, and who now comes back to them, decorated with 
every gift of fame and honour — a yet more perfect artist and 
woman than before. He then goes on to tell how her very 
first notes recalled him to the unique peculiarities of her 

" The sorrowful andante * in the aria from the Puritani gave 
her anopportunity of revealing that utterly magical sweetness of 
her voice, that pathos in its ring, that smoothness in its phras- 
ing, that dying-away and vanishing of the pianissimo, which 
the supreme artist delivered with the most absolute precision." 

He notices how half at least of the spiritual effect of her 
singing is lost, if she is not seen as well as heard. 

" For it is her peculiar charm, in which no other artist can 
touch her, that the expression of the melody seems to play 
around her very life, to breathe itself over her features, to 
stream forth through her eyes " 

" The singer's voice has gained in power, her execution in 
certainty; yet, perhaps, the strain and effort were a little 
more marked than they used to be, in the high notes, and at 
passages of the strongest colouring, where, of old, it was so 
perfect that one never used to notice that the diflQculties 
were difficult at all. One hardly can say whether it be 
a habit that has crept in, or the custom of singmg in very 
large spaces, or the different taste of a different public, needing 
stronger material, that has drawn the artist to just exceed, 
here and there, that fine line, wliich, for us, marks the limit 
of the purest beauty, and which she, formerly, clung to with 
such absolute and unerring self-command." 

* i.e. Qui la voce. 

1849-50.] LVBEGK. 385 

She sang Meyerbeer's duet ' La Grand'mere ' ^vith our old 
friend Fraulein Tuczec, and here "she gave us," says Herr 
Eellstab, "the most fascinating and innocent and playful 
grandchild on whom a grandmother has ever looked down 
and smiled." 

In the Eossini aria, brilliant as was the execution, he 
missed the spiritual and tender qualities, which are found to 
perfection in her singing of the " Lied," in which she seems to 
create the music, and to reveal herself as a poetess in musical 
expression. Each song is given a living colour of its own ; 
but perhaps, in the third, ' Ich muss nun einmal singen,' 
she put out most of her own innermost self — 

" That self which knows itself blessed in the consciousness of 
its call, and can inbreathe the very deepest reality into the 
cry, ' Ich muss nun eiumal singen ! ' 

"Each song becomes for her a sort of monodrama; she 
gives herself up to it ; and the poetry rises again out of the 
depths of her soul, like a new creature, and outflows from her 
mouth, and shines out of her eyes." 

In her second song, she made us feel as if a " maiden was 
talking to children — to children such as we aU would wish 
to be for ever." 

In the national ballad, which she sang on her recall, *' it 
was," says Herr Eellstab, " as if she were once more greeting 
her own home with her mother tongue — so full of heart- 
blessings were her tones ; and everything seemed bathed in 
the fresh flood of pure mountain air." 

Our Berlin critic has lost, as we see, nothing of his old 
enthusiasm. And he follows her, song by song, through the 
second and third concerts, with a devotion that knows no 
bounds. He proclaims her absolute supremacy now as a 
concert-singer, no less than before as a dramatic artist. And 
it is now, in this context, that he, again and again, calls 
attention to her creative dramatic intensity, by which she 

VOL. II. . 2c. 

386 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. hi. 

spreads about her song the colour and atmosphere of the 
scene which it embodies, lending to this purpose her whole 
frame, so that features and motions and look and expression 
all combine with the music to convey a single and over- 
whelming impression. In this, it is remarkable how he 
repeats the very words of Professor Jiingken, in conveying that 
which so struck them both. 

He tells us how, in giving Weber's song from Oberon 
'■ Ocean du Ungeheuer,' with orchestral accompaniment, " she 
managed to bring before us tlie whole majestic scenery of 
Nature with its terrors and its charms," so that no one could 
tell whether it is eye or ear which was most captivated. 
*' Both look and tone can never be forgotten, with which she 
wove a woeful image round about the words ' Wo die Fluth 
ein Leben raubt.' " 

After the concert on the 18th, when she repeated Meyer- 
beer's ' Grand'mere,' and Taubert's song, her critic dwells 
again with fervour on her power to create the atmosphere that 
belongs to whatever song she is singing, compelling her 
hearers, by the united force of gesture and sound, motion, 
look, and tone, to enter into the heart of the situation out of 
which the music springs. 

On the 20th of March, he wrote in the same journal a 
criticism of her concert on behalf of Herr Hendrichs. 

" One supreme feeling gave a grand colour to all others 
which the concert awoke — the one feeling that it was the 
last time for many years, perhaps for ever, that we should 
listen to the voice of her who, amid all the ardent, fair, and 
exalted memories that live within us, was the one, who 
exercised the magic of art, not only in its richest and most 
perfect measure, but also — and this is her peculiar and highest 
service — in its purest form." 

After brief thanks to the other performers whom he cannot 
stop to praise in presence of the one overwhelming impres- 

1849-50.] LtJBECK. 387 

sion, he goes on to assert that, of all the three evenings, the 
great singer reached, in this last, her highest level. In the 
aria from Mozart's Figaro (the last air of " Susanna")* she 
filled the mnsic with the sense of moonlight, and the stillness 
of the garden, and the scent of flowers. The soft depth 
which she put into the words " notturna face " — the light play 
of the hovering breath, made one say " This is not Susanna 
who waits for Figaro — it is Juliet who looks for Eomeo ! " so 
powerfully did the artist's ideal work upon the real, to draw 
from it a beauty beyond its own. 

Her second piece was a little spring ballad — sung for the 
first time by her — " Song of the Bird and the Maiden," f in 
which the critic notices once again " the marvellous combina- 
tion of the charm that she threw over the eye as well as 
the ear." 

She followed this with Mendelssohn's Suleika, and no 
words can recall the magical effect. 

" That Eastern wonder-dream, with its violets that peep, its 
stars that twinkle, its roses that yield their perfumes, its holy 
river with its rushing stream — was it all real ? And he who 
could forget the ' Forget-me-not ! ' must be one who, in the 
poet's words, ' Can never be remembered in life or death.' " 

After " the roses, and violets," of the German she gave an 
Italian aria, which was full of sunlight and sparkle, as it ran 
laughing from her lips. And then yet once again the critic 
cannot but ask himself what it is, beyond all the marvellous 
technical skill, which breathes through every form, and gives 
light to every colour, in this supreme singing ? And, once 
again, he is compelled to give the old answer, " The simple 
truth can express itself quite simply ; it is the purity of soul 
which speaks through all the artistic form." It is for this he 

* I.e., "Deh \ieui,non tardar." 
f I.e. Mangold's " Zwiegesang." 

2 c 2 

388 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. hi. 

gives her thanks with all the thousands who share his feelings. 
And with this he wishes her God-speed to that far land 
to which she goes across the ocean — and a happy return once 
more to this her home. 

Between the second and the third of these concerts, we 
have said that she made a rapid journey to Dresden, where 
she sang the Schumann Song, the aria from the Puritani, and 
Taubert's ' Ich muss,' and the flute trio from the CamjD in 

We have a beautiful notice of this in the ' Musical Memoirs,' 
of Justin Dietz, 1889. He singles out, as beyond all criticism, 
the three last-named pieces, " so complete and so profound 
were the colouring and the style." 

" I went," he says, " after it, to hear the judgment on it of 
Frau Kriete, herself a dramatic singer of the first rank at the 
Court-Theatre. As soon as I came in, she came towards me, 
and with a voice already raised, she said, ' Now, then, have 
not you, too, caught the Lind-fever ? ' She had been unable 
to believe the newspapers, which were always talking of the 
Lind-fever, and she had laughed at their judgment ; but now 
that she had heard the Lind, she echoed all that they said." 

After returning from Dresden to Berlin to sing for Herr 
Hendrichs, she was off on the 20th to Hamburg, bent on a 
purpose, of which the record has been supplied to us by one 
who was deeply interested in its success. Madame Clara 
Schumann has kindly written down, out of her diary kept at 
the time, the following account of what occurred. The 
picture given by her of Jenny Lind's swift and vivid 
appearance on the scene, from entry to exit, is warm with 
affection, and coloured with the reality of life. The words 
bubble up out of a thankful heart, with all the q^uickened 
insight of a free delight; they can best be left to tell 
their own tale in their owii native freshness and unaided 

1849-50.] LiJBECK. 389 

" March 1850. Hamburg. 

"Wednesday, the 20th. — I was just lying down a little 
after dinner and reading in a letter about Jenny Lind's 
appearance in Dresden, when she herseK came in, having 
only just arrived from Berlin. I was very pleased and so 
was Eobert, who, however, had had a sort of presentiment of 
her coming all day. She was most amiable, and said she had 
come from Berlin so quickly, as she wished to sing at my 
concert in Hamburg ; she was not a little astonished to hear 
that it was over, for Eobert had written to her that we were 
going to leave on the 23rd, from which she concluded that 
the concert would take place on the 22nd. She immediately 
offered to sing at my concert in Altona,* which was fixed for 
to-morrow, a proposal I of course most gladly accepted. I 
felt inclined to smother her with delight and gratitude. 

" On Thiirsday the 21st, Lind called on us for a small vocal 
rehearsal, but which turned out something more, for she sang 
a good many of Eobert's songs, and how she sang them, with 
such truth, with such deep feeling and simplicity, how she 
sang atjirst sight ' Marienwiirmchen,' * Friihlingsglaube,' from 
an album unknown to her, — that is a thing never to be 
forgotten ! What a grand, heaven-inspired being she is, what a 
pure, true artist's soul, how all she says refreshes one, how 
she always hits upon the right thing and expresses it in few 
words ! — in short, never perhaps have I loved and reverenced 
a woman as I do her. These songs will for ever sound in 
my heart, and were it not wrong, I should say that I don't 
wish to hear these songs sung by any one else but herself. I 
need scarcely mention that Eobert is equally charmed with 
her ; for a composer it is a special delight to hear his songs 
rendered as coming from the depths of his own heart. She 
left, and each time she left, I stayed behind in a state of 
intense excitement, her notes and words continuously 
quivering in my soul. 

" The Soiree in Altona on the evening of the 21st was 
splendid. Earely, I should think, you would find so much 
combined as to-day, — a crowded hall, tremendous enthusiastic 
cheering, the exquisite singing, my own performance not so 
bad, Eobert's beautiful second trio with Boie and Kupfer, — 
in short, nothing was wanting to make it all perfection. How 
she sang, how the 'Eheinische Volkslied,' by Mendelssohn, how 
the ' Sonnenschein,' by Eobert, no — that cannot be described ! 

* Altona, adjoining city to Hamburg. 

390 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. hi. 

Robert said to her : 'That really makes the sun sliine on 
one's back;' such freshness, such childlike innocence and 
simplicity ; one must hear that again and again, — and the 
audience indeed insisted on an encore. And how she sang 
' Der Himmel hat eine Thrane geweint,' with such intelli- 
gent rendering, putting her very soul into it ! 

" It cannot be expressed in words, what a heavenly impres- 
sion is made by such rendering of such songs ! 

" Otten called on us, and urged us to give another matinee 
at Hamburg to-morrow, and to persuade Lind to sing. But 
much as I might wish it, I should nevertheless not like to do 
it for my own benefit. I proposed her giving concerts at 
which I would play, or our giving a matinee together for the 
poor ; but she disapproved of all this, and said, she would 
only sing if I were to give a matinee for myself, and she 
would then leave for Liibeck in the afternoon, instead of in 
the morning. She pressed me hard and I accepted, for who 
could have resisted so tempting an offer ? Evidently she 
wished also to obtain a pecuniary advantage for us, for later 
on she expressed her great satisfaction on hearing that the 
matinee would be very well attended. She also insisted on high 
prices, but that I did not approve of, and she at last gave in. 

" Towards evening dear Jenny came to us, and we again 
had a vocal rehearsal, which as before turned out sometliing 
grander. She sang the ' Nussbaum,' ' Widmung,' ' Friihlings- 
nacht,' ' Stille Liebe,' and a good many others besides, also 
from Robert's opera Gcnovcva in the last act. 

" I should have preferred a thousand times spending the 
whole evening wdth her in this way to having to go to a 
party. Jenny Lind was also invited, but she wished to 
devote her last evening to her hosts (Madame Brunton and 
Frl. Seminoff); altogether she does not like going into 
society, it is even difficult to get at her at home, and quite 
imjjossible for the curious. 

" She takes the greatest care of her voice ; she does not 
dance, and drinks neither wine, nor tea, nor coffee. She is 
in every way an ethereal being ! She was most attentive 
to me in other things besides singing so very kindly at two 
of my concerts, staying on here on purpose for them, &c. ; 
so, for instance, she never suffered me to go to her for a 
rehearsal, — further, she always fetched us to the concert, and 
so on ! On the other hand, what pretensions are made by 
inferior songstresses ! " 

1849-50.] LUBECK. 391 

" Saturday, 23rd. 

" Matinee. Exceedingly full, great cheering. Jenny Lind 
had seated herself behind the lid of the piano, where- 
upon a general commotion ensued, for few only could see her 
and yet everyone %vished to see her. She again sang most 
exquisitely, — Mozart's aria from Figaro with enchanting 
simplicity (Frl. W. might have learnt respect for the com- 
poser from her) — besides songs by Mendelssohn, four songa 
by Eobert, winding up again with the ' Sonneuschein ' twice 
over. To-day she gave a proof of how she takes in everything 
that she sings, by singing the later part of the 'Friihlingsnacht' 
by heart, the leaves having got into confusion in being turned 
over. All Eobert's songs she sang in the manner which I 
had pictured to myself as ideal, but in which I had never 
dreamed to hear them sung. She does not pass by any 
delicate point, which others overlook completely ; in the same 
way it is a real pleasure to watch her, when others are per- 
formmg, for nothing escapes her, not even the softest, most 
subtle harmonic change. 

" After the matinee Jenny Lind would on no account 
allow us to take her home, but said good-bye to us at our 
house, and the parting pained me very much indeed. Eobert 
has a warm admirer in her ! She whispered to me one day : 
' "What a genius your husband is, how much I reverence him ! ' 
How pleased she always was on noticing that she had sung 
his songs to his satisfaction ! But let this suffice, for words 
are but a poor reproduction of the feelings." 

Nothing can be more engaging than this picture of her. 
These days were, indeed, singularly happy. She was in the 
full tide of her power. She moved from triumph to triumph. 
She was free from all the harassing turmoil and distracting 
emotions of the stage. She had left behind and shaken off 
the agitation and distresses of the heart, with which the last 
year had been so clouded. She was at her own disposal : she 
could come and go as she chose. She saw her way ahead 
along a road that teemed with promises. She was ever close 
to affectionate friends : and new intimacies were springing 
up all round her. Her great gift was there, to use for the 
ends to which she loved to dedicate it : she had but to lift 

392 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. hi. 

her voice, and the poor on whom her pity alighted, were 
relieved with boons, or her fellow-artists, whom she admired 
and reverenced, were released from their anxieties. Wherever 
she went, she carried blessing with her. And life was young 
in her : and spirits were high : and she revelled in the liberty 
of movement that was now so easy, and so possible. There 
is a sense of springing vivacity left upon us by the memorials 
of this time. We can feel it in the rapidity of her musical 
insight which so struck the great pianist : and in the ir- 
resistible zeal with which she throws herself into the con- 
genial task of doing her best for her friends. And, yet, how 
noticeable, in this record of Madame Schumann, is the touch 
of domesticity which she noticed in Jenny Lind ! Still, with 
all this gaiety, she held herself aloof : she suspected and dis- 
liked " Society " ; she reserved to herself a private corner, 
which it was almost impossible to penetrate, where she hedged 
herself in against all but the chosen few ; and even they had 
to approach it with care and caution. This was eminently 
characteristic. Her enthusiasm for Schumann's genius, 
which had begun under the guidance of Mendelssohn in 
1846, who had first shown her the beauty of his Lieder, seems 
to have let her, instinctively, inside his music : and even 
Madame Schumann was surprised at the speed with which 
she took possession of his songs, and at the delicate security 
of her interpretation of his mind. " Ah ! who was it that 
made that sun shine ? " she rejoined when the composer said 
that her singing made him feel it warm on his back. She 
felt her whole being move under his sensitive hand : and she 
knew all the vibrations of his sentiment. At the very close 
of her life, while she lay on her death-bed at Malvern, in 
weakness and misery, once as her daughter opened the shutters 
and let in a ray of morning sun, she just let her lips shape 
the first bars of the old song she loved, ' An den Sonnenschein.' 
They were the last notes that she ever sang on earth. 

1849-50.] LJJBECK. 393 

Everything conspired to be good at this particular time. 
From Sweden came a grateful acknowledgment of a kindness 
which she had been able to do on behalf of Lund University, 
where an effort to establish a large institute for the " Academic 
Union," had come to a block for lack of funds. The building 
was for the use and pleasure of the youth of the university : 
and the cause touched her ; and, with the sanction of Herr 
Munthe, she had lent them 10,000 crowns to save the scheme. 
A thankful recognition of this act was drawn up and signed, 
on March 14th, by the representatives of all the " Academic 
Nations " of Lund. " That the building can now be continued 
without interruption," it declared ; " and that it will be ready, 
in all probability, for the Oscar Day this year (Dec. 1), the 
Academic Union have to thank principally a name which is 
full of good omen wherever it is heard in the whole civilised 
world, but nowhere has it such a musical sound as in the ears 
of the young men of Sweden. If the University of Lund 
still has that future before it which we all anticipate, then 
posterity will combine the names of Jenny Lind and Tegner 
mth that of the Caroline Academy. . . . Long after those 
obligations have been fulfilled which can be expressed by 
written bonds, others will remain which it is an honour not 
to be able to discharge. The moral effect of the extraordinary 
favour and trust which have been given to the Academic 
Union in such a magnanimous way, and for wliich we, on 
behalf of all the students, beg to offer our respectful thanks, 
can never be measured, or returned." 

This pleasant piece of gratitude would have greeted her 
probably at Liibeck, whither she got back about the 26th of 
March to find Mdlle. Ahmansson much better than when she 
left her. "My little dog, too," so she writes to Madame 
Wichmann, " was so affectionate to me ; and jumped up at 
once on to my lap, and lay there as quiet as possible ! . . . 
Just think, dearest," she goes on, " that I sang twice in 

394 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. hi. 

Altona and Hamburg ! The Wieck-Sclmmanns were there, 
and they were too delightful, and too remarkable, and 
too gifted not to kindle love and admiration. And I count 
it a special honour to have been allowed to sing a couple of 
little songs at their concerts." 

A bracelet had come, it appears, through the Lord Chamber- 
lain, from Berlin as a tribute for her singing. *' The thing 
is pretty, and artistic ; " she goes on in the same letter : " and 
it cannot but be a great pleasure that their Majesties 
should have personally chosen the gift. But my singing has 
ever received such appreciation, and reward, that it was a kind 
of recreation to be allowed just once to sing freely on an 
occasion like that. — But kings, and queens, and such like, 
must always put a high value on their pleasures ! " 

The happy time at Liibeck is running rapidly out : and she 
is close on the date fixed for her return to Sweden. She 
writes yet once again, in her own English, to Baroness French, 
in return for letters received from her on February 6th : — 

" How kind, how very kind of you not to forget me ! I 
remember so well how pleased I was when I first had the 
honour of meeting you (in the carriage, when we were going 
off to Manchester), and how I felt sure that it would be very 
easy to love you, and your dear, dear daughter ! Miss 
Ahmannsen has been so obedient to her doctor, she assures 
the Baroness that she really deserves to get quite a new 
body ! . . . I went off to a few principal towns here in 
Germany [to sing] and it was a very great pleasure to me to 
see how kind people were to me, and how they everywhere 
do consider me just as if I was belonging to them. 

" I am, thank God, much better than before I left England ; 
I feel only very seldom that bad headache ; and what deliver- 
ance I cannot tell ! Our doctor here has so perfectly under- 
stood my whole constitution that he has made me a different 
person in that respect that my head is restored ! ! We are 
now waiting for the Swedish boat to take us to Sweden . . . 
in about fourteen days. I intend to remain in my dear 
country till about the end of June ; and then, we are going 
to Schlangenbad and Ems ; and from thence to London (for 

1849-50.] LUBECK. 395 

a few days only) for Liverpool. And there is the great point ! 
From Liverpool we will be saying farewell to Europe for one 
or two years. Yes ! I have taken the decision to go to 
America, and gain as much money as possible for the fulfil- 
ment and performance of my favourite idea — a school, a large 
school for poor lost children in my native country. I know I 
never will love the Americans as I love the English : oh ! no ! 
But I fancy the country there must be in some parts magni- 
ficent, and while I have the opportunity I think it is a fine 
thing to see so much of God's creation as it may be allowed. 
... I will keep you in a veiy constant memory. ... A kiss 
on dear Miss Georgina's forehead from her friend Jenny ; and 
for you, dear Madam, the expression of my sincere love, and 
deep attachment. 

" Your devoted 

" Liibeck, April 10th, 1850." " JenNY. 

One other letter, full of her innermost heart, she wrote to 
Augusta von Jager, the Professor's daughter, of whom she 
was very fond, and who had sent her a water-colour picture 
of Meran, where such happy days had been spent with the 

The letter will show how deeply she was moved, at this 
time, by an evangelical piety, which had stirred her during 
her last English visit, and which woke in her a vivid 
sense of human sin, and of the peace to be found in God's 
forgiveness. She was full of eager desire to speak to others 
of the peace which she had found for herself : and her affection 
for Augusta von Jager prompts her zeal, as a messenger to 
her soul. This letter reveals a good deal of what was passing 
in her ; while again it is characterised by that habitual 
anxiety in pleading for the continuance in another's love for 
her, which we have already so often noticed : — 

" My own deaeest Gusti, 

" Whenever I hear anything of you, and of Vienna, 
my whole heart goes out to it ; and I feel how deep and fast 
my soul clings to you ! 

"I call it friendship indeed, my dear Gusti, that you 

396 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. hi. 

should, in spite of my long long silence, still prove true 
in thought of me, and not only in thought, but had also 
made for me so precious a remembrance. You cannot think 
what joy I have taken in it. Would that I could speak my 
thanks in words ! At any rate, believe most assuredly, that 
1 not only have ' a little tiny bit of love ' for you, but that it 
must ever have a profound part in my own life-story, without 
my even troubling myself to bring this about ; for were I never 
to hear from you again, or were I never to let you hear of me, 
— still it would remain through fair or foul, through life and 
death. And I believe, and hope that you think so of me — do 
you not ? . . . , How glad I shall be to get to Vienna, and 
spend some evenings with you ! Ah ! much, very much, 
must one live through, before one learns to fasten on the 
Life, the Higher Life. Much — very much — should I like 
to tell, in quiet, to you, my dearest friends — you and your 
mother — that I might share it with you ! My life is so full, 
so beautiful, so wonderful, so great, that I often feel a lively 
desire to share all its memories with those whom I love ! I 
have for long had the most eager wish to earn, somewhere, 
a great deal of money, so as to endow a school for poor, lost 
children, in my own country. And the invitation to America 
came as a direct answer ; so that I go there in this confidence ; 
and I pray God in Heaven, out of a full heart, that He will 
guide me thither, as ever before, with His gentle hand ; and 
will graciously forgive me my sins, and my infirmities. I 
shall have mucli to encounter ; it is a very big undertaking. 
But since I have no less an aim before me than to help in 
widening God's kingdom, the littlenesses of life vanish in 
face of this ! 

" My dearest Gusti, my Bible was never more necessary to 
me than now — never more truly my stay ! I drink therein 
rest, self-knowledge, hope, faith, love, carefulness, and the 
fear of God ; so that I look at life and the world in quite 
another fashion to what I did before. Would that all men 
could come to this knowledge, and that we all daily feasted 
on this Divine Book ; and would that my own Gusti would 
take all her trouble to this Book ! Then first should we all 
know how to taste the true life ! " 

She tells her of her plans, and closes thus : — 

" You see how little peace they let me enjoy. But I am 
very, very happy ! There is nothing I want ; and everything 

1849-50.] LVBECK. 397 

goes well with me. My voice is better than ever. I have 
long left the stage : and I firmly believe that this decision 
has brought my soul happiness and peace. And now, fare- 
well, my own sister ! Heaven send you its blessing ; may 
my image bring you always courage and joy, for indeed 
I mean you well ! Let me, sometimes, have a word or two 
from you ; and count ever on my true attachment, and on 
my unchanging love. For life, 

" Your sister, 


Already, she had intended to have been at home ; but the 
Baltic ice still delayed the steamers, so that it is May before 
she is off. She gave three concerts before leaving the town 
in which she had found herself so entirely at home — one on 
the 6th of April, for the poor of Liibeck, another on the 20th 
for the widow of the orchestral director. Bach, and yet 
another on the 26th for the pianist Schreinzer. On the 7th 
of May, she wrote a very affectionate letter to her great 
friend, Madame Schwabe ; it is this letter from which we 
have already quoted her words on the death of Bishop 
Stanley,* of which she had just heard. She is to sail on the 
morrow. She apologises much for not having written before, 
and tells of herself, and all her plans. " I am much better 
than ever before ; my head is incomparably better, and my 
whole being is in good order." She has greatly enjoyed 
singing to the Germans, who are so wonderfully alive to the 
touch of music. She is impatient to see America, and the 
Falls of Niagara, and the Atlantic Ocean. Alas ! she will 
not get any stay in her beloved England for a long time ! 
She asks for her friend's prayers. Young Mr. Goldschmidt 
has been over from Hamburg, and has played in a concert, 
and tasted a little spring air, and heard the nightingales. 
And so good-bye ! 

It is a bright, hopeful letter, during a time of special cheer- 

* Cf. Book VIII. Cb. XII. 

398 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. hi. 

fulness and ease. She had thorouglily enjoyed it. Her health 
was renewed, her voice was at its finest, her spirits were high 
her soul was at peace. High and low, rich and poor, artists 
and public — all were at her feet. She had carried out her 
dearest aims with unhindered liberty. She revelled in her 
new-found freedom. So home, with a glad heart ! Home 
yet once again, for a triumphal passage over the familiar 
scene, before she launched out on to the great ocean, to the 
far land, where a wholly new life awaited her into which she 
passes out of our sight, beyond the range set us in this 
record of her artistic career. 

( 399 ) 



For the last time we are to follow Jenny Lincl to the country 
which lay so close to her heart, amid her own people who 
had so loyally recognised her gifts from the very first, and 
whom she repaid with such faithful generosity. She was 
never to see that land again, wearing the name by which it 
had known and loved her. House and home would be built 
elsewhere before she came again, and it would no longer be 
" Jenny Lind," whom Sweden would welcome back. It was 
well, then, that, on this last visit in her maiden-name, her 
native land should have given her its heartiest greeting. 

She reached Stockholm on the 12th of May, in our old 
friend "The Gauthiod," and was welcomed home by an 
immense crowd, who had assembled on the quay to greet 
her. She was to sing at six concerts in the Eoyal Theatre, 
on the 24th, 28th, and 31st of May, and the 3rd, 5th, and 
7th of June ; and, besides these, there were to be two State 
Concerts during June in honour of the wedding of the Crown 
Prince. The tickets for the concerts were put up for 
auction, but all the profits went to the Eoyal Theatre.* 
It was, we remember, on its behalf, that the king had invited 
her to return and sing. On the concerts themselves, the 

* The profits came to 21,805 crowns (over £1,200). The fee of 1,000 
crowns, which she consented to accept, was given by her to the Sick and 
Burial Association of the employes in the tailoring department of tlie 

400 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. iv. 

Daily Allehanda, her old friend, wrote that it was enough to 
say that — 

"she was the same as ever, with the same inspiration of 
genius, the same mastery in her craft, the same nnexaggerated 
abandon, the same spontaneity and cordiality, which, all 
together, constitute that harmonious whole, which is the 
highest aim of art, by which she astonishes and fascinates 
both the initiated and the public. 

" Though Mdlle. Lind may not appear again in any role on 
the stage itself, yet it is only the costume which we miss ; for 
if you will only go and see and hear her sing, in the Puritani, 
or as the woodland child in Viclka, or as the passionately 
sorrowing Donna Anna, or, again, as Jenny Lind herself, im- 
pulsive, naive, and charming, pouring out her wonderful 
music in Taubert's little Lied — then come back and say 
whether you have ever heard such dramatic singing, or seen 
a more living representation in look, manner, or expression 
of each several character whose mind and feelings the artist 
proposed to paint in song." 

Froken von Stedingk was faithful as ever, in welcoming 
her back, and warmly defended her resolution to leave the 

" In the spring," she writes in her diary, " I met Jenny 
Lind again. Many were blaming her, just then, for the 
decision she had taken, and which had, no doubt, been painful 
to her — the decision to quit the stage. I could not possibly 
disapprove it, knowing as I did the convictions on which it 
was based, however much I might, personally, be the loser. 
She now sang only in concerts. Thus she closed her 
theatrical career at the very height of her triumph; she 
deliberately renounced the admiration which everywhere 
followed her, and this, in consequence of a resolution which, 
in my eyes, makes her more worthy of honour than ever. 

" Many suppose this resolution to be the result of Pietism. 
Jenny Lind is as God-fearing as she is pure, but had Pietism 
been the cause, she would not herself have gone to the play, 
which she declared that she liked to do, to see others act. 
No ! but she had felt how physically and morally wearing 
was the work in the service of dramatic art, so that, for 
instance, for several days after a performance of Norma, her 




nerves would be so shattered that she would be unfit for 
other useful mental occupation." 

Froken von Stedingk attended the Queen Dowager's soiree 
musicale in the spring, at " which Jenny Lind was the 
attraction of the evening. I sat next her, at table, and found 
her friendlier than ever." 

She tells us how, later on, when Jenny Lind was taking 
leave of the Queen Dowager, "Her Majesty asked her to choose 
for herself one of some magnificent bracelets set before her. 
But she, with tears in her eyes, begged to be allowed the 
favour of having sung once before the Queen, without any 
more reward than the tiny bunch of forget-me-nots which 
were in a vase on the table. The Queen, then, gave her the 
simple flowers, which seemed to make her happier than 
diamonds ; and this little incident, which I witnessed, well 
illustrates Jenny Lind's way of feeling." 

Nor was it only the Court which desired to do her special 
honour at this parting. 

In the course of June, she received a tribute which em- 
bodied, in a distinct and remarkable manner, the profound 
feeling with which the entire body of her people were 
touched, by the splendour of her generosity. A medal had 
been struck in her honour, to which almost every one of dis- 
tinction in Sweden, from the King downwards, subscribed ; 
the committee of presentation included the names of the 

Baron de Geer, 
Count B. von Platkn, 
G. Albert Ehkensward, 


J. A. Frost, 

Julie Lofvenskiold, 

Elizabeth Herzelius, 

F. von Uardel, 

J. N. Borelius, 

Baron Bernhard von Beskow, 

Charlotte Murray. 

The Address with which the gift was presented is singularly 
graceful ; and it fitly closes the record of public tribute given 
in this book, in that it recalls, yet once again, at the end of 

VOL. II. • 2d. 

402 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. iv. 

her artistic life in Sweden, the tone and temper which we 
noticed in all the earliest records of her appearance. Now, 
once again, as ever before, it seems impossible to speak of her 
singing without passing beyond it, to include her character. 
Her Art, with all its perfection, is but the outward interpreta- 
tion of an inspiring Spirit — a spirit which cannot give itself 
out in music without carrying with it, or in it, a message of 
moral dignity, a visible touch of heaven. No one can escape 
the impression ; for, indeed, it is not separable from the artistic 
effect. In the words of the Address : " It is the beauty of 
the Soul that finds its expression through the medium of 
Song." It is the world beyond death, " of which, in Music's 
language, she has been the messenger to us." That is what 
men feel ; that is the witness which they bear — a witness 
which never failed her. Whenever they spoke of her effect, 
they found themselves using terms that belonged to religion. 
And as her Art sprang from a source behind itself, so it 
flowed out in effects beyond its own range. She held it, as 
we have said, in charge to the Power that prompted it ; and 
therefore she was bound to justify that charge in practical 
fruits. It was this to which the Address bore special wit- 
ness. Its promoters desired to signalise their sense of that 
nobility of heart which had shown that the " true aim of Art 
is higher than merely to please, or to astonish." A spiritual 
and moral force animating Art ; a spiritual and moral service 
for Art to render — these are the two poles of her Artistic 
belief: and it is these which the following Address notes 
with felicity and fervour. 

" To Jenny Lind. 

" The lovers of music at Stockholm have, during the 
present spring, as well as during the winter season of 
1847-48, enjoyed a succession of memorable feasts, at which 
they have admired alike the Artist's genius, and the nobility 

1850.] HOME ONCE MORE. 403 

of heart wherewith she has dedicated her triumphs exchisively 
to Charity and Benevolence, and has thereby testified that the 
aim of true Art is something higher than to please, and to 

" Having been privileged to witness these festivals of 
Art, where the beauty of the soul found its expression 
through the medium of song, the lovers and friends of music 
are desirous that the great artist, on leaving her native 
country, should carry away with her some outward token of 
this period of her life, of which the inner memory, which is 
at all times the companion of virtue, will follow her through 
life, until that other world is unveiled to her of which she 
has been the messenger to us through the language of 

" The undersigned have received the agreeable charge of 
handing to her this simple souvenir," &c. 

The medal, of which a picture is given on the opposite 
page, was struck both in gold and silver and bronze. It 
was designed by C. G. Qvarnstrom, and modelled by 
P. H. Lundgren. On its face, was the bust of Jenny Lind, 
draped, with the left shoulder brought rather forward. On 
the back, was a design, in which the figures of Charity and 
Patriotism stand on either side of the Genius of Song, 
while a symbolic figure of Gratitude, bearing a wreath of 
Immortelles, kneels at the foot of the throne, and inscribes 
the date of the gift, made by Jenny Lind, out of the profits of 
her last operatic season in Sweden — December 3, 1847, to 
April 12, 1848. Inside the laurel wreath that encircles this 
design are given the names of the chief characters, in which 
she sang, — Norma, Lucia, Agatha, Amina, Susanna, Alice, 
Maria, Adina. Below the group of figures runs the inscrip- 
tion : " In memory of the friends of Lyric Art in Stockholm." 

The gift was one, which went home to her heart. It is 
true that, at the moment of its presentation, her instinctive 
abhorrence of all public recognition and her religious con- 
sciousness of the sheer act of duty wliich she had fulfilled in 
her charitable works, combined to make her shrink from* the 

2 D 2 

404 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. iv. 

formal reception of it : and, in consequence, the distinguished 
hody of gentlemen who had received the " agreeable charge of 
handing her the souvenir " found her rather difficult of access. 
But this was but a momentary expression of her characteristic 
repudiation of praise : and, as soon as it had passed, she gave 
to the tribute all the response that it evoked and deserved. 
She recognized in it, her own people's appreciation of her 
career — their warmth of affection, their delight in her glory, 
their grateful sense of her loyalty to them. Those three 
medals were zealously treasured by her to the very close of 
her life, as a precious token of the bond of kinship which 
knit her so fast to the land of her birth, and to her child- 
hood's home : and, so fully did she acknowledge the appeal 
made, in the design, to her patriotism that, on her death, she 
left the medals to be committed to the National Museum at 
Stockholm, where now they lie, a pledge of the unbroken 
bond to her country, which no long years of separation had 
served to weaken or annul. 

Before she left Stockholm she twice sang some Sacred 

music, on a Sunday, at Evening Prayers ; once on June 8th, 

in the Jakobskyrka, and, again, later in the St. Clara Kyrka. 

In the London house, at Moreton Gardens, where her last 

years were spent, there hangs a most graceful picture,* in 

water-colours, of the west gallery in St. Clara, as she stood 

to sing the solemn solo in the Elijah, "Then shall the 

righteous shine forth as the sun." Her upright figure, in its 

elevated pose, is beautifully caught, thrown out against 

the floods of mellow light that pour in through the western 

window. Sometliing there was in her, at that moment, as in 

the church of that very parish where her troubled infancy 

first felt the light, she was delivering, with all her dedicated 

* The painter's name, T. E. Birger, is inscribed on the picture, witli the 





powers, to the praise and honour of God, the message of 
radiant hope which awaited the righteous — something there 
was, which arrested the artist's eye, and interpreted to him 
its significance. He left on the paper a record, which 
conveys, at a glance, the rapt, upward look, so familiar to 
those who knew her ; and he spread about her the glow of a 
sunlight, which seemed a symbol of that shining glory of 
which her voice rang out the promise. 

In that church, she sang for the last time in Sweden, under 
the maiden-name which was hers by birth. The service was 
on June the 25th, and on the 27th day of the month she 
started from Stockholm on her great venture. 

Just before leaving, she signed her name to the list of 
pensions, which she was entrusting to Herr Munthe to dis- 
pense. We give below a reproduction of her autograph, as 
a significant symbol and illustration of the free force that 
was at work in her at this moment, as well as a memorial of 
her final acts of charity to the folk that she was leaving 
behind her. 


406 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. v. 



She left her country with a happy sense of the good will 
that was faithfully following her career, as it opened out into 
paths that carried her far afield. She had a few engagements 
to fulfil on her way across Europe, before she joined her 
companions, Benedict and Belletti, who were awaiting her 
in London. 

On July 4th, she sang at Bremen in a concert given on 
behalf of Carl Eeinecke, Capellmeister and pianist, for whom, 
both then, and to the end of her life, she cherished a warm 

She then spent July at Schlangenbad, storing up strength . 
and, from there, she wrote to Madame Wichmann on 
July 9th, eagerly desiring to contrive an interview with her 
beloved Berlin friends. All the plans failed ; but Otto, one 
of the sons, managed to get to Baden-Baden as she passed 
through it in August, and conveyed to her the full pledges of 
the hopes and affections, with which liis whole family waited 
on her footsteps. 

Her Liibeck doctor, Herr Heiland, had accompanied her to 
Schlangenbad, with his wife and daughter ; and he had a 
good report to make of her; for she writes to Madame 
Wichmann : " I am in full strength, and am really sound in 

The concert at Baden-Baden at which she sang, on 
August 6th, was for the hornist Vivier, a friend of Julius 

1850.] ^ DEPARTUBE. 407 

Benedict. Her two last acts, therefore, in Europe, before 
her start, were both deeds of kindness. 

She crossed quickly through England, only sleeping 
a couple of nights in London, and reaching Crumpsall, 
near Manchester, the home of her faithful friends the 
Schwabes, in time to rest a few days before fulfilling her 
engagements at Liverpool on the 16th and 19th of August. 
Both Mr. and Mrs. Schwabe accompanied her ; and she had, 
therefore, the comfort of affectionate intimacy to help her 
through the racket and distress of the final start. 

The two concerts were to raise money towards paying for 
the new hall of the Liverpool Philharmonic Society in which 
they were given. The first of these, on the 16th, was noticeable 
only for " causing an excitement," according to the Times of 
August 19th, "to which the musical annals of Liverpool can 
find no parallel." " The enthusiasm went far beyond fever- 
height." She sang her famous pieces, " Qui la Voce ;" " Und 
oh die Wolke," from the Freischiltz ; " Non paventar," from 
the Flauto Magico ; a Duet from the Turco in Italia with 
Belletti; and, then (after a new song by Benedict, called 
" Take this Lute "), the Norwegian Echo song, accompanying 

So far she was on old ground ; but, at the second concert, 
a very different and a vital departure was made. It was her 
first singing of the Messiah, in which, in later years, she 
proved herseK incomparable. 

The excitement of expectation was intense. On August 19th, 
the Times critic * reports that as he writes his despatch, on 
Saturday 17th, 

" The rehearsal for the Messiah is now proceeding at the 
Philharmonic Hall, the precincts of which are besieged by a 
mob anxious to obtain a glimpse of Jenny Lind. The 
greatest curiosity prevails about this performance ; for Mdlle. 

* I.e. The well-known Mr. J. A. Davison. 

408 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. v. 

Lind has never sung in an Oratorio of Handel's since her 
arrival in this country. Monday night will show whether 
she will achieve the same success in the Messiah as in the 
Creation, and the Elijah." 

As to the rehearsal, he records with warm commendation 

" Mdlle. Lind was, as usual, the first to arrive, the last 
to depart, and the most attentive to her own music, and to 
the indications of the conductor. If every one were as pains- 
taking and zealous at rehearsals as Mdlle. Jenny Lind, the 
critic would have much less to complain of." 

On the 20th, the critic telegraphs the result for the Times 
of August 21st. 


" Jenny Lind's singing surpassed anticipation. Her energy, 
and brilliant execution of ' Eejoice greatly ' ; her expression 
in ' He shall feed His flock ' ; her tenderness in ' How 
beautiful are the feet ' ; her fervid devotion in ' I know that 
my Eedeemer liveth ' ; and her fine rendering of the last air, 
' If God be for us,' which made it a new and unexpected 
feature, raised unbounded enthusiasm. In the Recitatives, 
besides the excellence of her vocalisation, the pointed, 
articulate manner in which she pronounced the English 
words, excited general admiration." 

After praising Belletti, and the chorus, and criticising the 
band, he tells how, at the close, the National Anthem was 

" Jenny Lind giving the two principal verses. The scene 
that ensued defies description. The walls of the building 
reverberated with cheers. Hats, sticks, handkerchiefs were 
waved in every direction. The platform of the orchestra was 
covered with bouquets and wreaths, many of which fell upon 
the head and the shoulders of the songstress. It was a leave- 
taking such as even Jenny Lind has rarely experienced." 

Between the parts of the Messiah, to the. strange and 
serious dislocation of the main interest, she was presented 

1850.] DEPARTURE. 409 

with an Address from the Philharmonic Society, which, 
after a rather lengthy preface on the peculiar merits of 
the hall in which Mdlle. Lind had had the privilege of 
singing, and of the Society whom the Address repre- 
sented, assures her, in the warmest terms, of the "good 
wishes of Liverpool for her health and prosperity during 
her sojourn in a distant land," on the occasion " of her 
departure from a country where her talents have excited 
so enthusiastic a sensation, and her kindness of heart has left 
so deep an impression." The Society hopes that, as it has 
been the last to bid her good-bye, so it may be the first 
to welcome her back. 

In the Times of the 22nd, Mr. Davison contributes a 
detailed criticism of her delivery of the numbers in Messiah. 
He has much to say, which comes with the authority 
of a most skilful and experienced judgment. 

"Mdlle. Lind's performance, in the Messiah, has," he 
considers, " enhanced, if possible, her reputation. ' Rejoice 
greatly ' is a veritable Bravura, not a mere senseless display 
of roulades and jioritnrc, but a gush of melody in which the 
exultant feeling of the text is expressed with a power that 
springs from inspiration. The elaborate divisions of the Song 
demand the greatest flexibility, while its peculiar vocal 
character can only be expressed by a voice at once strong 
and brilliant, combined with a free command of the upper 
notes. These physical requisites are among the peculiar gifts , 
of Mdlle. Jenny Lind, whose well-known intelligence and 
reverence for the text enabled her to employ them with the 
finest effect." 

After dwelling on the profound impression produced, he 
sums up : — 

" With this simple effort Mdlle. Lind established herself in 
the conviction of every one capable of appreciation, as a 
perfect mistress of a style of music which taxes the physical 
and the mental qualities in an equal degree, and is the 
loftiest because it is the traest and the purest. 

410 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. v. 

" The air ' He shall feed His flock ' requires a simplicity 
which derives effect from the innate and unobtrusive beauty 
of the music. This divine melody fell from her lips like soft 
water from a spring. The reading of the words was perfect ; 
and the shake at the end,— the legitimate and only ornament 
introduced — was executed with a finished neatness and a 
command over the sotto voce which afforded the fullest 
satisfaction to the ear." 

Apparently, in "How beautiful," an amateur perform- 
ance of the oblligato on the flute differed in tune and time 
from Handel and from Mdlle. Lind ; but " ' I know that my 
Eedeemer liveth ' was perfect." The critic pronounces it to 
have been the first time that he had ever heard it properly 

" * For now is Christ risen ' had in it something of positive 
inspiration. The termination — strictly according to the text 
without even a concluding shake — was far more effective than 
all the singer's art could have made it, exercised without that 
feeling of veneration which teaches that to touch such music 
is to spoil it." . 

In conclusion, he considers that — 

" The depth and sublimity of the music exhibited Mdlle. 
Lind's talents in a totally new light." 

So triumphant was the first historical opening on the field 
with which she so intimately identified herself in later years. 
It was a wonderful passage from the atmosphere of the Figlia 
to that of the Messiah ; but the English knew, now, at what 
level her supreme gifts lay ; and they welcomed her on to the 
ground of their famous Oratorio with a heartiness of recog- 
nition which she cordially recognised. It was to the English 
that she specially loved to sing the music of the Oratorio. 

Her last day at Liverpool was taken up with visits to view 
the new wing of the Southern and Toxteth Hospital, due to her 


•///'. Jmiu/ //•(>»/ (I ///>/^tcrj'u>M nj - 

1850.] DEPASTURE. 411 

last year's singing; and with receiving there a silver tea- 
kettle and a pair of silver candlesticks. 

On the evening before sailing, her Swedish heart was at 
work ; she could not let herself go on this new and strange 
experiment without desiring the sanction and the blessing of 
the "old folk at home." Back to father and mother her 
thoughts were travelling ; she must feel herself covered by 
their authority ; she must let her last words be to them. So, 
on the evening before the start, she sat down and wrote the 
following letter, with its buoyant hope, with its tender 
daughterly humility. 

The daguerreotype, to which she refers, is the one from 
which the picture on the opposite page is taken. It was 
engraved in the Illustrated London Neivs of the day : but the 
present picture is taken fresh from the old plate, which 
has, by diligent search, been recovered, and used. 

" Liverpool, 20tb Aug., 1850. 

" My dear Parents, 

"May these lines find you in the enjoyment of good 
health. I have been very well since I left Sweden, and am 
now starting for the New World. For we leave to-morrow 
morning at half-past ten. 

" I have been eight days in England, and have sung here 
in two concerts, both of which have been most successful, 
and the English public has greeted me as if I belonged to 
them. I am met everywhere with heartiness and love. Oh, 
may I succeed in deserving them more and more ! 

*' I have been to see the steamer which will take us over 
to America, and nothing grander of its kind, I should think, 
could be found in any country. The vessel is 300 feet by 
80, and is decorated so magnificently that one can fancy 
oneself in a rich private house. 

" I look forward to the sea — the ocean ! 

" When I have got across, I shall let you hear again. 
As my mother wished to have a Daguerreotype of my poor 
features, I have sat for one in London. I hope it will have 
succeeded. Farewell, good mamma and papa ! Think of me 

412 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. v. 

with friendliness, and give me now and then your blessing, 
for a parents' blessing is something good to travel with. Let 
me hear occasionally how you are at Pommern.* Eemember 
to look into the books which I gave you, while stopping with 
you there — and may the Lord Himself enlighten and bless 
you ! Thus prays most sincerely 

" Your attached 

" Daughtek." 

There is a quaint touch of parental authority in the last 
sentence of the letter, which blends curiously with the 
beautiful and child-like simplicity with which she asks for 
the parents' blessing on her going-forth. The whole letter is 
a delightful foil to the following account of the wild popular 
excitement that was fermenting, at this moment, round the 
girl who was herself engaged in writing those plain, quiet, 
humble messages, so full of domestic affection and simple 
piety, to the two wondering parents in the old country. 

Jenny Lind's Departure for 

" Liverpool, Wednesday night. 

"Jenny Lind is gone — gone amid a scene of triumph 
which was not more a tribute to her own surpassing work 
and talent, than to the art which it is her honour to profess 
and to which she does so much honour. Ere these few 
hasty lines are before the reader, this incomparable songstress 
will have performed one-fourth of her voyage to the United 
States, where, we are assured, a reception awaits her which 
will cast in the shade even the splendid ovation which has 
just attended her departure from among her European 

"Fresh as I am from this magnificent display of public 
feeling and sympathy, I can scarcely enter into details. 
With ears still deafened with the booming of cannon, 
and the shouts of the thousands who were assembled on 
either side of the Mersey, and eyes dazzled by the gay effect 

* A small place taken by her for her parents, 

t From the Illustrated London News, Aug. 24, 1850. 

1850.] DEPABTUBE. 413 

of innumerable craft, which were illumined by the sunlight 
as they ran to and fro on the river, or followed in the wake 
of the Atlantic, I can scarcely give you a sober description 
of this extraordinary scene. 

" The authorities foresaw there would be a great demon- 
stration, and took their precautions accordingly. Fancy 
what must be the interest excited by Jenny Lind, when the 
police thought it necessary to notify to Mr. Barnum's agent, 
that if the lady took her departure from the quay at the 
hour generally expected, they could not ensure the safety of 
life and limb. We doubt much whether any sovereign was 
compelled to change the programme of his movements for 
such a reason. Yet so it was ; and much hurrying to and 
fro was there in consequence. Instead of leaving at nine or 
ten o'clock, as had been arranged, Jenny Lind was obliged to 
slip out privately at a quarter to eight, and go down all 
manner of back streets to be able to get to the pier un- 
perceived. In this she was successful ; and while the 
intending sightseers were disposing of their muffins and 
coffee, the little woman whom they were all going out to see 
had quietly gone on board the Atlantic in a river steamer ; 
but not until after she had been annoyed (during a few 
minutes' stay on the pier) by a crowd of idlers who pressed 
round her in the most rude manner, and could scarcely be 
kept off by the police. 

" When at last the hundred and fifty passengers who had 
engaged all the berths were received on board, with all 
their luggage, and had taken leave of all their friends, 
and when the sound of a gun booming across the water from 
the bows of the steamer announced that all was ready for 
departure, what was certainly a ' great scene ' commenced. 
The immense floating mass began to move, and, as if by 
magic, all the craft that had been playing about on the 
surface of the river, formed into lines, and made a sort of 
procession. As the Atlantic steamed up from her moorings, 
past the Albert Docks, she turned her head inshore, in the 
direction of the town, and slowly passed in front of the 
magnificent line of quays, amidst the enthusiastic shouts of 
thousands of human beings who lined the shore, not merely 
on the Liverpool side, but also all along the Cheshire coast, 
from Birkenhead onwards to the mouth of the great arm of 
the sea. Salutes were fired from the shore, and were 
returned from the Atlantic ; and the whole scene, — such an 

414 JENNY LINT). [bk. ix. ch. v. 

army of craft of all sorts and kinds floating, with pennants 
flying — such a shouting — such a roaring of cannon — such a 
bright sunlight (which broke out suddenly, as if to aff'ord 
presage of fair weather) — was really one of the most 
extraordinary sights we ever witnessed. Every eye was 
strained to get a sight of Jenny Lind. There the little 
woman stood on the paddle-box, with her arm in that of 
Captain West, and waving her handkerchief enthusiastically 
in return for the greeting of the crowds who had assembled 
to witness her departure." 

Such was her farewell, as she passed from the Old World to 
the New, travelling out over the unknown waters, to discover 
whether Music had power to draw towards her the hearts of 
these immense populations in far away cities, with the same 
unwavering security with which it had knit to her the affections 
of all those to whom her voice had spoken, in the lands that 
lay about her home. So she sails, wafted out, for her 
adventure, on the wings of all the favouring hopes, with 
which it was possible for that Old World to send her forward. 
Those ringing cheers, those crowded boats, those fluttering 
handkerchiefs, those straining eyes, which followed her out of 
Liverpool, spoke to her of all the wonderful days in Europe 
that lay behind her — days that had never once failed to bring 
her their unceasing tribute of praise and welcome and love, 
as often as she invoked them, ever since she first babbled 
out her earliest speeches as a little child on the boards of the 
Stockholm Theatre — days that had been filled, from end to 
end, with a delicious response to all her appeals, as the 
triumph grew and grew, and she passed from the narrow 
limits of home to occupy and possess town after town over 
all that larger Continent, which now was brimming over its 
uttermost edge with enthusiastic devotion to her. Trouble 
and anxieties there had indeed been; but these had been 
personal and domestic ; or they had been concerned with 
the details and arrangements that multiplied out of the 

1850.] DEPARTURE. 415 

very necessities of her success. But never once had her 
hearers failed to give her their hearts. Never once had she 
been disappointed of finding, in each fresh country, a new 
crowd who lent themselves to the sway and fascination of 
her gifts. 

And this unfailing triumph had never limited itself to a 
mere admiration. Always it had been an admiration that was 
transfigured, by its own inward force, into genuine affection. 
Always it had felt the power of her personality ; and had 
understood her deeper motives, and her serious intention. 
She had never been wholly misunderstood in her desire that, 
by her Art, she should touch the finer issues of the religious 
consciousness, and enlarge the resources of a human charity. 

All this was behind her, to forward and cheer her, as she 
tempted the new Atlantic seas. Nor did the promise of high 
fortune belie itself. The pledge was redeemed in a measure 
that ran over and over. It is not our present part to follow 
her in this adventure, nor to tell the familiar tale of the 
boundless enthusiasm that awaited her every step from the 
moment that she touched American shores. Our part ends 
at this point, where the old European career, in its special 
sense, closes. Up till now, her Dramatic and Artistic life 
had developed, step by step and stage by stage, in an orderly 
sequence of gradations. She has now touched the final level 
on which her future career is to move ; there is no new fasliion 
it is to take. The platform of the concert-room is the 
ultimate spot of vantage from which she is to reach the 
world of men. It is needless to expand a record which would 
merely repeat in detail the same typical success. We have 
seen enough already to prove that, in her abandonment of the 
stage, she had not surrendered her chance of delivering her 
Artistic message. On the contrary, though her marvellous 
histrionic gift was put aside, she found a freedom of scope, 
a glad outlet, for her singing, which rather increased than 

416 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. v. 

diminished the exercise of her sway. The fervour that 
accompanied her concert-singing was in no degree less than 
that which, of old, had besieged the doors of the theatres. The 
opportunities which it offered her for beneficence were, at 
least, as magnificent as before. Moreover, in the Oratorio, 
she more and more found the most congenial and adequate of 
all the fields in which she could exercise the full force of her 
powers, and attain the noblest realisation of her ideal. 

We send her out, then, on her American visit, with no 
sense that her career, in touching its final level, has less 
triumph in store for her than any of the steps which led to it. 
We shall leave her to go ever forward, still encouraged, from 
New York to Savannah, with the same passion of devotion, the 
same thrill of a unique experience, which she had evoked 
already in Stockholm and Berlin, in Vienna and London. 

But, nevertheless, one absolute change was to come upon 
her, in that Far West. Over there, beyond the sea, the old 
life of the wandering musician, carrying wares from mart to 
mart, with its homelessness, its insecurity, its isolation — 
that type of life, of which so often we have had to record the 
bitterness, was to find its end. The solitary girl was to be 
received into the warmth of home-affections, and into the 
happy honour of wifehood. And we know what that would 
mean to a woman of her disposition. We know how this 
unattached life, with its light-hearted Bohemianism, was 
ever and always against her grain ; how she hated its con- 
ditions — the lodging with its forlorn emptiness, the inn with 
its naked publicity. In spite of the difficulty which she 
most assuredly would experience, of bending down that vivid 
and impulsive nature which constituted her Artistic self, 
under fixed and necessary limitations, her deeper womanhood 
was domestic to the core ; and she longed after the repose of 
a house filled from end to end with changeless and steady 
associations. The friendships, formed by the way, warm and 


1850.] DEPARTURE. 417 

intense as they were, could but be as passing gleams, as 
broken and partial suggestions of that home for which her 
spu-it pined. And this was at last to be given her, brought 
to her out of the Old World she had left, in the very midst of 
the disturbing turmoil of the last wandering trip which she 
was ever to make under her maiden name. Just when the 
distraction and tumult of her loneliness were at their very 
height, the release came, which lifted her out of it for ever, 
and which laid open for her a wholly new and enduring life 
outside and beyond her course as an Artist.* 

We, therefore, leave her company at this point, parting 
with her just at the very summit of her career as " Jenny 
Lind," leaving her still moving forward into continual 
triumph, at the top of her force, in the fullest exercise of her 
powers — leaving her to pass out of our sight, under the low 
happy doors of home, into the quiet and the secrecy of 
wedded life. 

But, though we do not follow her steps farther, we cannot 
part with her, without recording a message or two whicli she 
herself sends back, as from the new land, to those who watch 
after her in the old countries. In giving these, we are but 
reassuring ourselves by her own voice, as we too follow her 
with our eyes, that all is well with her. And the messao-es 
are to those who have been our companions through this 
book ; and we shall be glad to feel that they receive oood 
news from her, and that they and she are still undivided, 
though the Atlantic rolls between. We shall be listening to 
her farewell to those whose names have become now familiar 
to us. 

And, as her last letter at the moment of leaving Europe, 
had been written to her parents, so let the first that we quote 

* Mr. Otto Goldschmidt joined the Cumpan}', on the retirement of 
Julius Benedict, as Pianist and Accompanist. He arrived at the end of 
May, 1851. 

VOL. II. . 2 E 

418 JENNY LIND. [bk, ix. ch. v. 

from America, be due to the same filial loyalty. It gives 
her simple enjoyment and wonder at the great voyage. 

" Boston, 27tli September, 1850. 

" My deak Parents, 

" It does seem strange to be so far from home, so far 
from Europe ! I trust these lines find you in perfectly good 
health. I take for granted that you have been informed long 
ago of my safe arrival at New York, 1st September. 

" The voyage was in every respect extremely interesting. 
True, eleven days on the sea is a good deal, but the sight of 
the ocean, under all its various aspects, was oh ! so grand ! — 
the rising and setting of the sun, moonlight, the new stars, 
the rainbows, the phosphorus, porpoises and seals, storm, fog, 
and then again a surface calm as a mirror. All these changes 
we could watch in turn. We had a magnificent boat, and a 
particularly clever, attentive, and charming captain. I was 
not ill in the least, but kept wonderfully well all the time. I 
went on deck to have a look at the storm ; it was splendid ! 
We lay deep sunk in the trough of the waves, the colossal 
ship floating like a tiny eggshell on the immeasurable 
expanse of the waters. The ship's guns were flung hither 
and thither, ropes as thick as my waist came sweeping in 
piles across the deck, the waves, as high as big houses, of the 
most intensely beautiful light green, dashing towards the 
bridge with such violence as to overthrow and injure three 
sailors and one of the ofiicers. After the storm, which lasted 
twenty-four hours, it turned flne, and then we had all kinds 
of glorious sights. 

" I sat up, quite on the very edge of the prow, close to the 
old man blowing his horn (the ' old man,' I must add, was of 
wood !), with a few friends and the Captain, who made it 
their business to take care of me, and I really felt elated by 
the superb spectacle before me. 

" We gave a concert (on the ocean !) for the crew, and once 
or twice we had a merry bit of dancing ; and in this way 
time flew by quickly enough. 

"New York, as to its situation, reminds me very much 
of Stockholm. 

" I was met with quite an astonishing reception. I have 
already given six concerts there, in a hall with room for 
11,000 people; it has been crowded each time, and we shall 

1850.] DEPARTURE. 419 

most likely be able to give about forty to fifty concerts in 
New York alone. 

"Here everything is done on a large scale. The first 
ticket sold the day before yesterday in this city for to-day's 

concert (the first one given here) was sold for as much as 

625 dollars ! The tickets, you must know, were sold by 
auction. It is amazing what heaps of money they seem to 
have here. 

" My health is, as usual, thank God, in excellent condition ; 
my voice is fresh and strong, and I am looking forward 
extremely to some plan — after this ' tournee ' is over — for 
enjoying peace and rest ; for, indeed, in these two matters, so 
precious to us, human beings, I seem to be given but a very 
small share, torn and bothered as I am from morning to 
night. Still, it is touching to see such good-will and kind- 
ness ; people seem not to know how to do enough to show 
their favour and the genuine interest they take in me. 

" I wish I could send home to Pommern some of the lovely 
flowers and the splendid fruit which are continually sent to 
me. The peaches are delicious, and grow here in great 
abundance. We have still warm weather, and ever a divinely 
blue sky. 

" October 1st. — Time does pass ! I shall now soon be thirty 
years of age ! How happy I am to become an ' ould hag ' ! 
Every day I see round me numbers of new faces, — so many, 
in fact, that I find it a bore — but I am going to try and 
terminate my engagement as quickly as possible — j^erhaps in 
a year ! When we meet I shall have heaps to tell you, which 
now I have no time to relate. It is already more than three 
months since I was taking part in the country dances round 
the maypole at Pommern. It does seem so strange ! 

" I wish I could soon hear that you both are well. Now, 
pray dd take care of yourselves, so that still many a 
green spring and many a chirping bird may gladden your 
soul ! Eest assured that all I have said or written has been 
done witli the truest and best intentions ; and pray remember 
with tenderness your far-distant 

" Daughter." 

That letter will, certainly, bring relief, and joy to the little 
house at Pommern, where she had so lately " danced round 
the maypole." She, like her own favourite skylark, is ever — 

" True to the kindred points of heaven, and home." 

2 E 2 

420 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. v. 

She thinks of the green springs, and the chirp of the birds, 
that should give ease to the father and the mother ; and, yet, 
is anxious also for them to listen to the serious words and 
thoughts that she had said and sent to them " with the best 
and truest intentions." 

The next of the letters repeats how freely and cheerfully 
things are going. It is written from Boston, on October 2nd, 
1850, to her Guardian, Herr Munthe. 

" I have given eight concerts, and hitherto the success has 
been unparalleled. I devoted the first two in New York to 
charities, because they had raised such enormous prices 
(by auction) — that I considered this to be a plain duty. My 
ao-reement with Mr. Barnum has been quite altered ; and Mr. 
Barnuui has shown, and is still showing himself, extremely 
generous, and reasonable ; and seems to have made it his 
iirst object to see me satisfied. I understand that we rarely 
make less than ^10,000 at a concert. Hitherto the receipts 
have varied between $12,000, $14,000, $16,000 ! And thus 
my share for six concerts is about $30,000 ! " 

Good news, this, for the kindly old judge at home ! His 
warm heart would Idndle over the triumphant success, even 
though he foresaw a big job ahead for his prudence and his 
wits, when it came to the dispensing of these vast sums in 
accordance with the scruples and the anxieties of her 

Now for her friends with whom we have seen her intimate. 
First, there is a letter from New York, October 22nd, 1850, 
to those faithful English friends. Baroness French and her 
daughter, to whom she has always written with such heart- 
felt affection. She is as warm as ever. After a long letter 
of four quarto pages, full of love, to the Baroness, she 
ends : — 

" How is my dear Georgina ? Will you send her a kiss 
from me with my best love ? Dear Georgina ! May she 
never go through what I have gone through, or may she 

1850.] DEPARTUBE. 421 

never feel the heaviness of bitter sorrow as I have ! But — I 
have no reason to complain ; for my Art gives me such 
reward and such happiness, that I thank God every hour 
therefor ! America is a splendid country : and some parts 
remind me so much of my own dear country. . . God bless 
and protect you all ! 

" Your attached, 

" Jenny." 

At the beginning of her intimacy with the French's she 
said that if once she made a real friend, she never clianged ; 
and, certainly, this letter verifies her words. In spite of 
all the turmoil of public life, and the distraction of travel, 
she remembers, with undiminished loyalty, these two friends, 
to whom she had drawn so quickly, and so fast. 

On November 8th she wrote again from Boston to her 
Guardian a letter full of her characteristic temper. 

"It is indeed a great joy, and a gift from God, to be 
allowed to earn so much money and afterwards to help one's 
fellow-men with it. This is the highest joy I wish for in 
this life ; everything else has disappeared from the many- 
coloured course of my path on earth. Few know, though, 
what a beautiful and quiet inner life I am living. Few 
suspect how unutterably little the world and its splendour 
have been able to turn my mind giddy. Herrings and 
potatoes — a clean wooden-chair, and a wooden-spoon to eat 
milk-soup with — that would make me skip like a child, for 
joy ! And this — without the slightest trace of exaggeration, 
or that sort of thing. 

" Benedict and Belletti are kind and pleasant. Benedict 
and I play nice little duets on the piano, and the time goes 
quickly and happily. 

" Tlie bird-song, ' I know not why I am singing,' and Herr 
Bers's sonij with the lono'-sustained notes, and the Norwegian 
echo-song — these are the standing pieces which I must sing at 
every concert." 

This speaks straight from her heart. It holds in it her 
deepest motives — motives, strong from the first, but which 

422 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. y. 

have gained in strength as she developed. Her original 
sense that her singing was God-given has been intensified by 
the more positive religious influences which had flowed in. 
upon her through her English Evangelical friends, and 
expresses itself, now, in the desire for inner peace in the quiet 
recesses of the soul : while the hope of beneficent service to 
her fellow-men has become absorbing. Still, with all the 
growth, there is no change whatever in the " Jenny " who 
would " skip for joy over the herring and the potatoes, and 
the clean wooden spoon." That declaration is instinct with 
her very breath. She never lost, either the spontaneous 
simplicity of plain living, or the buoyant gleefulness of the 
dancing child. 

The thought of " milk-soup " had a touch of love in it 
for the far home, where the dish was national : and we will 
add in here, therefore, another short word, written a little 
later on, to her guardian, which will show how loyally and 
tenderly tliis love lived on. 

" I met Eroken Bremer * at Havanna," she writes on March 
1st 1851, " and my heart was refreshed by interesting talk, and 
drew ever sweet and bitter memories from my country, always 
so dearly, dearly loved ; and from my early life so full of 
inner struggles." 

And, now, to part with her best friends with whom we 
have seen her spend such happy days, and to whom she pours 
out her fondest affections — the Wichmanns. They are not 
forgotten in the novel whirl of American affairs. The heart 
beats true as ever. 

" My dearly beloved Amalia," she writes from Phila- 
delphia on December 5th, 1850, to Madame Wichmann, " I 
feel so great a desire to write you some lines that I cannot 
keep silence any longer. I long to know how you all fare ; 
and would like, too, to tell you something about myself; for 

* I.e., Predrika Bremer. 

1850.] DEPARTURE. 423 

I kuow well how great an interest you take in my fate. I 
will no longer restrain myself; for I find my thoughts all 
flying to you with such love and confidence that I leel 
grateful and happy in the mere act of communing in spirit 
with you. And, surely you have not forgotten me ! 

"What are they doing in Germany? I am in great 
anxiety over the situation there. Will there really be war ? 
Where will you go in that case ? For God's sake, write me 
a line about that. 

" If all goes ill in Europe you might come to America, and 
fetch me away. How is Otto ? * Is he stronger ? I was so 
glad to see him in Baden ; and fancied that in him I saw 
you all. 

" .... I and all of us are extremely well. My head is 
quite re-established : and my voice is better than ever. The 
climate here is very good. Nearly the whole autumn we 
have had a clear blue sky, such as we had at Meran, when it 
was at its best. . . . 

" Mr. Barnum behaves extremely well towards me : and I 
could not wish for anything better. 

" In the month of July we hope to be back in Europe, for 
we hope to see the Great Exhibition. Ah ! if you were to 
come there ! You, Amalia, have never been in London ; how 
interesting it would be to see it ! Think it over, dearly 
beloved Erau ! 

" If you see Taubert, tell him, please, that they will not 
listen here to anything but his song ' I must be singing.' 
Since I got a very nice translation of it in English, I have to 
sing it at every concert. Greetings to all my friends — 
Herr Taubert— Professor Werder — Magnus— Madame Men- 
delssohn., etc. 

" I wept for joy the other day, when the Prussian Envoy 
Herr von Gerolt brought us greetings from Her Majesty the 
Queen of Prussia. When next you meet His Excellency 
Herr von Kedern, pray tell him how truly grateful I feel for 
this mark of Her Majesty's sympathy. Greet him at the 
same time. 

" Eaithful love to you all ! 

" From yours ever gratefully, 

" Jenny." 

* Otto Wichmann. 

424 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. v. 

So we leave this sweet and delightful friendship which 
played so deejD a part in her early years of European success. 
It has remained her constant support, throughout — a harbour, 
in which she never failed to find refuge, and peace. 

The next letter shall serve as our farewell remembrance of 
another house which had 1)een to her a home at a yet more 
critical hour. It shows that she was still bearing about 
with her, with faithful devotion, those songs of Lindblad's, 
which had passed into her life. 

" Would you be so very kind," she writes to her guardian 
on April 22nd, 1851, " to send to New York all the sets of 
Lindblad's songs, as soon as can be ? M. Benedict is so 
very much charmed with them ; and as I have got them all 
imprinted in the head, as well as in the heart, I did not bring 
them with me to America ; and therefore I could not give 
them him ; but I have promised to get him copies of them 
from Sweden." 

One thread out of her old life, which we have already 
tracked into the new, is alas ! soon to be slit. It is a 
thread woven deep indeed into the tissue of her memory 
and her soul. The long and curious story of her mother 
which we have followed through so many incidents, ends 
at last during the American trip with the news of Fru 
Lind's death. What a strange and unanticipated change 
had come over the scenes of poor Fru Lind's life since, 
pinched and driven by the hard days, unsuccoured and 
unsustained, she had been forced to put out her new-born 
child with the Parish Clerk of Ed-SoUentuna, and turn 
from her hurried sickness and nursing to fight her wav 
alone against a bafJQing world ! " That child will bring you 
help! mark my word," the old grandmother had said to 
her: but she little knew the full and wonderful sense in 
which those words would prove themselves true. Now, in 
1851, lifted out of all anxiety by that child's help, trans- 

1850.] DEPARTURE. 425 

planted into a kindly and peaceful home which the child had 
given her, in company with the husband whom, in spite of 
all his weakness in those earlier times when she had to 
struggle on alone, she loved with an affection that he warmly 
returned, she could sit and rest among the quiet country- 
sights, and could sweeten her sourer humours, and could 
soften her asperities, and could come to kinder terms with 
the human earth about her, as she caught all the echoes of 
that praise with which the wide world outside was welcoming 
that child of hers, once so forlorn, of whom, with all her 
tough bitterness of disposition, she had always been so proud ; 
and could hear of tlie uncounted wealth which was being- 
poured in upon her, in measures that must have made her 
breathless as she listened to their tale. No fairy god- 
mother could have worked a more marvellous transformation ; 
and yet all had been done by the earnest, intelligent, devoted 
steadiness, the " incredibly hard work," of that tiny scrap of 
a child who once sat in the porter's window at the Widows' 
Home, and sang away to her cat " with the blue ribbon 
round its neck " ; and who, now, knew not how to escape 
from the thousands who thronged to hear her in lands beyond 
the sea where her name was already familiar and dear as a 
household word. She, by God's grace, had done it : and now 
at the end of all, she is the very same " Jenny " who trotted 
off by her mother's side to the Opera-House, to try their 
fortune with old Croelius. Still she loves to think of the 
" milk-soup and the wooden-spoon " that belonged to the old 
simple days of childhood ; and her heart drew closer to her 
mother, now that the Atlantic rolled between them, than it 
ever could in the earlier days when the roughness of the 
surface-life harshened the home, and forbade those springs 
of gentleness to flow between a mother and daughter whom 
so much held estranged. Certainly, it was with a bitter 
pang that Jenny Lind heard, in December 1851, of her mother's 

426 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. v. 

death. Some words wbicli she wrote about it have already 
been quoted.* They tell how " everything had become smooth 
and nice " between them ; how her mother had become so 
much quieter and more reasonable ; how she had hoped to 
"surround her old age mth joy, and peace and tender 
care." " Now it is too late ! Peace be with her soul." 

Too late, perhaps, for all that she yet planned to do ; but not 
too late to have done much to secure that " peace " to her 
declining days, which was the gift most sorely needed by that 
disturbed and harassed heart. 

It is good to read, in the very letter which thus records 
her pang at the loss of the mother who bore her, her thank- 
fulness for the new strength that has been brought to her 
by that " chosen companion of her life " to wdiom, by this 
time, she has been united in marriage,! and in whom she 
has found (as she writes) " all that her heart ever wanted 
and loved." The new home has begun for her, as the old 
home drops away : and in the new, she has won for herself 
that fortifying and blessed assurance of affection which the 
old had so pitifully lacked. 

Perhaps, now that she has herself taken leave of her 
friends, we may give one last picture of her, as she was seen 
in the thick of her American work, by the sympathetic eyes 
of Mr. Parker Willis, an American author, from whose 
reminiscences of " Famous Persons, and Famous Places " we 
have already made quotations.! 

* lu a letter to Carl Forsberg, of the War Ministry, written, in August 
1852, after her man-iage. (Cf. vol. i., p. 34.) 

I She was married to Mr. Otto Goldschmidt, at the house of Mr. S. Grey- 
Ward, in Boston, by Bishop Waiuwright of New Yorlj, according to the 
service of the Episcopal Church, on February 5, 1852. Among the 
Witnesses occur the names of Mr. Edward Everett, Mr. Ward, C. E. 
Habicht, Swedish Consul, etc. 

X Cf. vol. i. Ch. VI. The book was published .in 1856 by Ward 
& Lock. 

1850.] DEPARTURE. 


He has most graphically described a typical day's work in 
New York, with its mingled glow and grind. 

'•' It was the morning after her last concert (in New York), 
and among the business to be attended to, in the winding up 
of a visit to a city where she had already given away $30,000 
in charity, was the result certified in the following report : — 

" ' The undersigned, a committee named by Miss Lind to 
<iivide the appropriation of the sum of $5,373 • 20 cents, the 
proceeds of a morning concert, have distributed the said funds 
as follows : — 

New York, Nov. 26, 1850. 

C. S. Woodhiile. B. Raird. E. B. Mintum. Wm. H. Aspinwall. 

John Jay. 

To the Society for Improving the Condition of the Poor . 1000 

Widows with poor children 300 

Roman Catliolic Orjihan Asylum 300 

Female Assistance Society 300 

Eastern Dispensary 250 

Northern Dispensary 250 

Eye and Ear Infirmary 250 

Hebrew Benevolent Society 200 

Prison Association 200 

Destitute children of seamen 200 

Homeless and destitute boys 100 

Swedes and Norwegians in New York 273.20 

Swedish Bibles and Testaments 200 

Brooklyn Orphan Asylum 250 

The poor of Williamsburg 100 

The poor of Newark 100 

The poor of Jersey City 100 

Temperance societies 500 

St. George's Society 500 


" There was also another matter which formed an item in the 
■' squaring up ' of the New York accounts on that day. A 
paragraph had reached her making mention of a Swedish 
sailor who had perished in endeavouring to save the lives of 
passengers on the wreck of a vessel. Jenny Lind had sent to 
the Swedish Consul to make inquiries whether he had left a 

428 JENNY LIND. [bk. ix. ch. v. 

family. His widow and children were found by the Consul,* 
and Jenny had sent him $500 for their use. This was 
mentioned by M. Habicht to a lady, who mentioned it to us, 
and by this chance alone it became public. 

" But while all these sufferers were receiving her bounty, 
and she was settling with banks and managers for the pay- 
ments — what else was her life made up of on that day ? 

"It was now half-past nine in the morning, and three 
servants of the hotel and two of her own had been ordered to 
guard her room till she could eat her breakfast. But well- 
dressed ladies cannot be stopped by men-servants : and her 
drawing-room was already half full of visitors on particular 
business who had crowded past insisting on entrance." 

He goes on to describe vividly the " lady-beggars," to whom 
she hurriedly offered $20 or $30, as the shortest way to be rid 
of them ; and how this is rejected with indignant protests. 
" We did not expect this pittance from you ! " " Excuse me, 
I came for a donation, not for alms ! " etc., etc. Then there 
are the " applicants for musical employment ; passionate 
female admirers ; a dozen ladies with albums ; some who had 
worked things for her ; one who had come indignantly to 
ask why a note containing a poem had not been answered." 

So the audience would go on; and Mr. Willis cannot 
wonder, that in the evening, when he goes to a party at a 
lovely villa ten miles from town to meet her, he should find 
her looking fatigued. But she received him with a merry 
inquiry as to where he came from, in reference to some spirit- 
seance, to which he had lately taken her. He told her in 
answer that they had beeninquiringofaspirit whether Jenny 
Lind had any talent which she would have developed but for 
the chance possession of a remarkable voice ? and if so, what 
was it? 

" ' And the spirit said, it was working frocks for poor little 
children, I suppose,' was her immediate anticipation of the 
reply, uttered with an expression of arch earnestness which 

* The Chevalier Charles Edward Habicht. 

1850.] DEPARTURE. 429 

confirmed us in the opinion we have gradually formed, that a 
love of the comic and the joyous is the leading quality in 
her temperament. 

" During the time that we remained near her, there 
were constant introductions. And in these she bandies 
no compliments. If a remark is made which has no 
rebound in it, she drops it with a monosyllable, and without 
ever gracing its downfall with an insincere smile. She affects 
no interest which she does not feel ; and puts an abrupt end 
to a conversation which could only be sustained by mutual 
pretence of something to say ; she differs suddenly and un- 
compromisingly when her sense of truth prompts her to do 
so ; and repels, instead of even listening silently to, com- 
plimentary speeches. At all times, she is particularly honest 
and simple." 

He describes how he took leave of her : — 

" She had withdrawn from the crowd, and was sitting in 
one of the deep alcoves of the saloon ; one of the trellised 
windows, which looked out upon the park, formed a back- 
ground to her figure. She sat in a posture of careless and 
graceful repose, with her head bent on one side, her eyes 
drooped, and her hands crossed before her, in the characteristic 
habit which has been seized by the painters who have drawn 
her. There was an expression of dismissed care replaced by a 
kind of childlike and innocent sadness, which struck us as 
inexpressibly sweet, and which we mentally treasured as another 
of those phases of expressive beauty of which that strong face 
is capable. And as we looked on her, there suddenly appeared 
through the window behind, half concealed by her shoulder, 
the golden edge of the just-risen moon. It crept to her 
cheek before she had changed the attitude in which she 
indolently listened to her friend as he talked ; and for a 
moment the tableau was complete. It was so startling, and 
yet so apt and so consistent, that, for an instant, it confused 
one's thoughts. . . . But the taking of a step forward dis- 
turbed it, . . . and we could only then call her attention to 
the bright orb lifting behind her. The moment after she had 
said ' Good-night,' and was gone." 

That shall be our last vision of her. For we, too, must be 
saying Good-night, and be going. 



So she passes out beyond the range of this Memoir. We 
must force ourselves to part with her. She has finally and for 
ever shaken herself free from that theatrical career into whicli 
she had been thrown from her very infancy, and within which 
she had developed and matured all her artistic capacities. 
We have seen how she had deliberately and spontaneously 
cast it all away behind her, at the very moment when her 
wonderful histrionic powers were at the very height of their 
fulfilment. We know that she did this in obedience to the 
rooted convictions of her innermost self — convictions which 
had grown up within her secret will until they had become an 
imperious call on her spirit which no resistance or plea from- 
without could break down, and no alluring fame or promise- 
of wealth could beguile. She had done it in spite of all the 
world could do to prevent it. And now that it was done,, 
she has found, as we have seen, that the path of Art is open, 
as ever to her. She still can exercise her allotted mission to- 
mankind; still can appeal to men through her marvellous 
gift of song ; still can wake to finest issues all the nobility 
and purity and joy that lie asleep in human souls until the- 
kiss of music breaks their sealing slumber. Still she can turn 
aside the golden treasures that men hoard or squander, from- 
all the uses of luxury and the waste of pleasure, and can 
direct them down the channels that render them beneficent,, 
and hallowed. Still she can move about the earth as a 
delight, a wonder, an apparition, lightening the load of 
sorrow, bringing good news of peace. Still, in each who- 


heard her, the springs of joy would be set moving, and the 
true life would be purified, and changed. All this mag- 
nificent opportunity was still hers. We need not be afraid. 
There is a rich life ahead for her. In England, she will yet 
again, in her famous provincial tour of 1856, kindle an 
enthusiasm as magical as ever. In Holland, and on the 
Ehine, and throughout many a German city, for years to 
come, the old triumphs will repeat themselves.* 

* As our memoir closes at the American tour, we add in a note the 
dates of her principal performances in the years that follow, in which 
she now received the active co-operation of Mr. Goldschmidt. She sano- 
during the early half of 1854 in Dresden, Berlin, Leipzig, Vienna, and 
Pesth. In 1855, after concerts in Hamburg and Bremen, she made a 
most brilliant tour from March to May in Holland, singing at Amsterdam, 
Rotterdam, Leyden, Utrecht, the Hague, Haarlem, Dortrecht, and in 
Friesland. In the June of that year, she began her visit to the Lower 
Rhenish Festival at Diisseldorf, which she repeated in 1863 and 1866.. 
From December, 1855, to June, 1856, she made a round of Eno-land 

Scotland, and Wales, accompanied by a strong band of supporters 

F. Lablache, Weiss, Ernst, Sainton, Swift, and Piatti — and had a most 
extraordinary success. 

In 1857-58, besides singing at Dresden, Prague, Breslau, Konigsbers:, 
Danzig, and Posen, she made a momentous appearance in the Messiah at 
Halle, for the completion of the Handel monument. 

In 1859 she went round the chief Irish towns, assisted by Belletti and 
Joachim ; while in 1861-62 she sang in Concerts and Oratorios in 
England and Scotland, with the assistance of Belletti, Sims Reeves and 
Piatti ; besides giving three Oratorios, for charitable purposes, at Exeter 
Hall during the time of the International Exhibition. 

In May and July of 1863 she took part in the historic revival of 
Handel's music to the Allegro and the Penseroso of Milton, and this 
music she sang again in the autumn at Liverpool and Manchester. 

In the years that followed she would sing whenever a special occasion 
arose. It might be in Messiah for the Clergy Fund Corporation in 
January, 1865 ; or at Cannes at her one Concert on French soil in 1866 
[See Vol. i, p. 150] ; or the Musical Festival at Hereford in 1867 ; or, 
again, in Mr. Goldschmidt's Buth, in 1869, in Hamburg and London ; and 
again at Diisseldorf and in London in 1870 and 1871. In April, 1871, it 
is pleasant to see her take part in oue more Concert with Madame Schumann 
at No. 14, Hyde Park Gardens. In May, 1873, she sang in Northumber- 
land House before it was swept away by the new improvements; and 
after helping the Turkish Refugee Fund in February, 1877, and singinf on. 


Yes! The voice — the perfected use of the voice — will 
remain to enthral and to exalt. But yet, we must confess 
that something is gone, which will never be again — the 
freedom of the Actress to place at the disposal of her 
voice, all the resources of her imaginative passion. This 
is gone for ever ; and the question may still haunt us. Did she 
never regret the decision taken ? Those accumulated stores 
of experience gained from childhood, exercised and trained 
by twenty years of work and of success — was it nothing to 
her that these w^ere thrown to the winds ? Did not the gift 
itself within her, so instinctive, so deep, stir at times and 
yearn for an outlet ? Did she never, in all the long years, 
feel for the warmth and the inspiration of some heroic hour, 
when she had drawn men, spell-bound, into the sway of the 
passion to which she alone could give expression — when she 
had known that all the dividing bars were broken, and that 
she and they were made one in the thrill of a supreme emotion ? 
Is it possible that any one should possess the power, and not 
at times, desire to use it ? 

The answer is absolute. No traces of such a regret are 
recorded, even loy those most intimate with her, to have ever 
crossed her mind. Never, even in strictest confidence, does 
she seem to have uttered a word that tended to imply the 
existence of such a feeling. Far from falling under even the 
passing influence of such a regret at the step once taken, she 
does not appear to have been even moved by the impulse 
from within now and again just to liberate her pent-up 
skill. Not that she recoiled from the Stage itself with any 

behalf of the Albert Institute in a Royal Concert at Windsor in May, 
1880, she made her last public appearance at a Concert given for the 
Kailway Servants' Benevolent Fund at the Spa, Malvern Hills, on July 
23rd, 1883. From 1876 to 1883 her main musical interest lay in leading 
and training the Soprani of the Bacli Choir ; while, from 1883 to 1886, 
she threw all her energies into her work for the School 'of Singing, in the 
Royal College of Music. 


repugnance or moral condemnation. On the contrary, she 
would often go to the play ; and would take an interest in 
this or that new actor or actress. She was, on these occasions, 
a rather merciless critic ; and she would be very severe on 
any defect in technical training, or any stupidity of mannerism. 
All this came from her genuine appreciation of dramatic 
Art : she still recognised its high capabilities ; she had not 
mthdrawn her sympathies from it. And yet it never 
crossed her imagination that she might herself find joy in 
wielding the strange dominion again. She found a childlike 
delight in private, sometimes, in letting loose her marvellous 
gift of merry mimicry. Once, for instance, when quite alone 
mth an intimate Swedish friend, she began to revel in making 
her laugh with the most whimsical imitations of the various 
celebrities of the stage at that day ; and, after overflowing with 
brilliant fun over it, she exclaimed : " You see, I have not 
lost my old art ! " as if she was glad to feel it was there. But, 
nevertheless, nothing seemed ever to suggest to her : " "Would 
you not love to exercise that art as of old ? " 

Her fixed and unwavering sentiments are given in a very 
vivid letter, written, years after, to the same Herr Forsberg, of 
the War Office, to whom she wrote on the death of her 
mother. His deep interest in the Theatre had led him to 
send her a poem called " Thalia " in honour of the drama, 
which might wake up old memories. She, in answer, tells 
him how she came to see that all tlie tears shed on the stao-e 
were sham tears ; and how, unsatisfied by success, she opened 
her Bible and there came upon these words (written on the 
margin of some text, by herself, as we suppose) " my newly- 
found Lord, who first taught me to shed the genuine tears." 
Her new religious experiences seem to have made the emotions 
of the Stage feel hollow, and superficial. 

She, then, recalls the physical agonies that it entailed, of 
which she is vi\ddly reminded by a scene of home-Iiappiness. 
VOL. II. 2 F 


" Walter " (her son), she writes, " is just at this moment 
rushing into the room dressed up in my jacket of the ' figlia,' 
in which he is acting coachman, and is supremely happy : he 
has got a huge hat on, with a real cockade, and is offering to 
take me for a drive in his carriage, which is made out of 
chairs piled up on the table ! I cannot refrain from com- 
paring the present purpose of the jacket, and the anguish 
I felt when it covered my poor limbs. There is Walter, 
quite enchanted: and I was trembling all over while I 


wore it ! " 

This is, of course, an after-view which needs many qualifi- 
cations ; but it embodies the permanent impression left on 
her memory — a memory of bodily and mental misery. The 
Art was exercised at too heavy a cost. It took too much 
out of her. 

In estimating the cost, we must remember her mode of 
acting. There is one form of the dramatic gift which lies in 
the power of self-abandonment, of absorption in a character 
foreign to the natural self — in a character taken up, assumed, 
worn, penetrated, as a study, by the intensity of the 
imagination. The actor leaves himself behind ; and only 
imagines what that other character would feel under given 
circumstances. Such an actor keeps his own inner store 
of emotion unused; when he acts, he is not himself, but 
another person. But Jenny Lind has told us herself that she 
worked on the exactly opposite method. She carried herself 
into her parts. She could not act any character which 
she could not adopt for her own, or imagine herself to be. 
For the time, she was it. This is what limited her range. 
TMs is what debarred her from acting an evil character. She 
could not do it merely as a scientific impersonation ; she must 
picture herself as inside the part ; she must surrender herself 
to the sway of the evil passion to be portrayed. 

Now, such a method would, no doubt, have, overwhelming 
effect on happy occasions ; but it is terribly expensive. It 


draws on the private resources ; it exhausts the personal 
powers ; it carries all the turmoil and pain of the Drama in 
within the secret recesses of the self. Such a process tears 
at the heart of life. It spends more than it can reclaim. 

No wonder, that, as she looked back, the prevailing 
thought was mainly of the tortured nerves and exhausted 
vitality wliich such acting as this involved. 

And not only did she escape from the torture of exhausted 
nerves : but more than that. She evidently felt a positive 
gain in inner freedom. Something there was in her deepest 
self, which sprang up into a liberated life when once she 
found herself a musician only, and not an actress as well. 
That is why she could never even feel as if she missed any 
fulfilment of her full powers. 

And this element in her which found itself free was just 
that in her which constituted the very core of her artistic 
gift. For in herself, as in her art, she was a passionate 
Idealist. She had none of the realistic instincts, which 
delight in burrowing inside the crust of facts and incidents, 
ugly and repellent though they be, in order to drag out their 
inner secret. Her native tendency was, not to dig beneath 
the coarse rind, and pluck out its mystery, but to escape and 
soar away from all that was common and gross ; she was like 
her chosen emblem the skylark, — 

" That singing still doth soar, and soaring ever singest." 

She revolted from the narrowness and meanness of circum- 
stance ; she desired to overleap its cramping necessities. It 
did not respond to her spiritual requirements. Perplexities, 
shocks, obstacles, — these did not evoke in her a wish to 
master them ; rather they jarred against her conscience ; 
they drove her to indignant protest, and anxious inquiry. 
This shapeless, harsh, tumbling turmoil, in which man works 
out his actual story, struck upon her as an intolerable con- 

2 F 2 


fusion. That was her temperament, and therefore it was 
that she was not sure of herself in the stress of action, in the 
thick of facts. She could not trust her own judgment. She 
was greatly subject to changing impressions, and to incon- 
sequent influences. She lost her confidence. The field of 
active life was not her true ground, ^he was an Idealist. 
Only when aloof from the shift of bewildering Circumstance, 
did she rise to her full supremacy ; and move with perfect 
consistency, and absolute security of foot. 

She was an Idealist ; that was her dominant self. And, 

therefore, it was, that she felt herself free and self-possessed 

when she had, once and for ever, cast out the theatrical 

interests which were dragging her in a cross direction. The 

Stage compelled her to be in constant contact with all the 

whirl, and noise, and jar of circumstance. It pinned her 

down to all the pettiness, the dishonourable inferiorities, 

of a restless conflict with a hard and unworthy environment. 

It imprisoned her within those jangling conditions from 

which her instinctive idealism was ever urging her to take 

wings and fly away. It could not go on. And, when once 

the effort of escape was over, she could not but feel 

herself rescued as from a prison. Her innermost being 

could put itself out, now, in music, with as little jar or 

fret from external accidents as was humanly possible. 

She could pass straight on to the concert platform from 

her inner musings, and could there deliver herseK of her 

full message, just as it burned within her to give it, 

with nothing to consider except how to set it free in 

that form which her own inward judgment commended 

to her. 

Music, then, gave to her idealism uninterrupted scope, while 
the accidental and external conditions of the Drama were 
incessantly traversing it ; and it was, therefore, the musician 
that gained, at the cost of abandoning the actress. But yet 


further ; behind the idealist lay the woman, with certain deep 
root instincts which only won their freedom through the 
surrender of the stage. Of these instincts we have spoken 
already. They were, first, the domestic instinct, with its 
intense desire for the stability of home. And, secondly, the 
religious instinct, with its yearning for inward peace. These 
emotions had no easy way in her, at the very best. The 
artist in her was very strong; she had all the ebbs and flows 
of impulse — the rapid susceptibility to changing influences, 
the shifts of temper, the sweeps of emotion, which make the 
artistic nature so perilous, and so difficult to control. She 
had to get all this in hand ; she had to set herself to 
master all that aggravates the morbid humours of irritable 
nerves. It was all she could do so to manage that these deeper 
desires for stable peace could get forward towards their fulfil- 
ment. They needed every succour that external life could 
supply. And how then would they ever survive, so long as 
the impulsive and sensitive self was shaken and kindled by 
all. the turbulence of a dramatic career? How would they 
have a chance of winning their footing, until she was released 
from that houseless wandering, amid uncongenial strangers, 
which such a career involves ? 

It was these twin instincts which suffered most obviously 
and most acutely, from the disturbance inevitable to the 
Stage ; and it was their imperious pressure which impelled 
her to cut herself loose from that which hindered theii' 
freedom. Two little stories illustrate how she felt herself 
drawn to what she did. The first is domestic. In America, 
they tell how, at the very height of that unparalleled triumph, 
with all that great world ringing with her praise, she visited 
a young mother, and, after kissing the tiny, rosy baby, 
according to some Swedish fashion, on its ear and its heel, 
she turned to the mother and cried — "Ah, how I envy you! 
you have something to live for ! " There is the woman's cry, 


breaking through the artist. It must not be taken for more 
than it is worth. She would often acknowledge the 
sufficiency of Art, hallowed to its highest purpose; and 
would be alive to the danger that besets Art from the 
domestic side. But, for all that, the voice spoke genuinely, 
out of her very soul. The fuller her artistic passion, 
the deeper grew her longing for a something at the back- 
ground which should be, not the expression of life, but life 

And, then as to the rehgious motive. Once an English 
friend found her sitting on the steps of a bathing-machine, on 
the sands, with a Lutheran Bible open on her knee, and looking 
out into the glory of a sunset that was shining over the waters. 
They talked, and the talk drew near to the inevitable question, 
" Oh, Madame Goldschmidt, how was it that you ever came to 
abandon the stage, at the very height of your success ? " 
" When, every day," was the quiet answer, " it made me 
think less of this " (laying a finger on the Bible) " and nothing 
at all of that" (pointing out to the sunset). "What else 
could I do ? " The answer is obviously dramatic ; not literal. 
She is using the immediate situation, in which she spoke, as 
a symbol of what she intended to convey. She is not giving 
the actual motives which took her from the stage ; but she 
is interpreting the inner experience, which, for her, justified 
the original step, and which made it impossible to regret it. 
There, as she sat on the beach, she saw one more con- 
firmatory instance, before her very eyes, of that secret which 
made her abandonment of the Stage so intelligible, and so 
satisfactory. The Bible, and the Sunset ! There is what she 
always needed ! There is what she wished at all cost 
to preserve. Each of them is closed and barred, to all 
who cannot bring to them a certain spiritual tone : and it 
was tliis tone which she found it impossible to preserve amid 
the disquieting distractions of an actress's life. There is 


nothing morbid, or morose in this judgment of hers. She is 
not bringing to bear upon the theatre any exaggerated 
temper of religious puritanism. Even if, at the moment of 
the actual withdrawal, she was possessed by influences which 
disturbed her normal conscience, yet even then she re- 
pudiated, with hot indignation, any aspersion which implied 
contempt for her profession. And her determination to with- 
draw ran back far behind the time when that special form of 
religious puritanism affected her : and it lasted on, with un- 
diminished strength, long after she had recovered, again, her 
more habitual judgment. No ! It was religion, if you will, 
that moved her ; but it was the simple and wholesome religion 
of a pious soul, who felt that she must retain the plain and 
primitive peace, which is the secret of all liigh and noble living 
— that she must sacrifice all, rather than suffer the turmoil of 
the world to blind her eyes to those mysterious visions that 
are thro^^^l open through the gates of a sunset, or are set 
stirring by the still voices of the Bible. So she deliberately 
judged ; and for that judgment she alone could know fully 
the grounds ; and she alone can bear the responsibility. 
Only, let us be clear what that responsibility exactly in- 
volved. It was not that she withdrew from man's service 
the gifts entrusted to her for his use : for she always felt 
that her best gift, that of song, gained, rather than lost by 
her sacrifice of the Stage. She was not, then, sacrificing 
her proper mission for the sake of the woman's need of relief, 
and peace ; rather she felt herself to be paying the price that 
her full artistic mission to mankind asked of her. And the 
whole of her after-life seemed to be to justify the decision 
taken. She never saw any cause to doubt but that what 
God had asked of her, that she had done. And, certainly, the 
choice she made did justify itself by its spiritual results. By 
it she did retain the eyes which could look out into the sunset, 
and the heart that could read the Bible. By it she did keep 


herself, to the last, " unspotted by the world," untouched by 
meaner motives, untainted by the breath of jealousy, or by 
the suspicion of earthly ambition. Nothing ever brought 
low that strange nobility of mind which was her mark, and 
her possession. Nothing ever clouded or discoloured that 
strain of haughty purity, which penetrated her being. 
Always she was shut away from the fever, and the fret, that 
haxries high spirits into disquietude, and vexes them with 
the miserable sense that they have slipped down from their 
true estate. Faults she had ; blunders she made ; we have 
not disguised or ignored them. But they were the faults 
and blunders to which such a character as we have here 
attributed to her, is liable. They were of the kind which 
belong, naturally enough, to the high-strung intensity of her 
life. They came from the misjudgments of genius ; from the 
recoil of a noble and trustful innocence ; from the reaction 
of vehement aspirations ; from the disproportion to which 
artistic inspiration is so prone. Such failings and infirmities 
are, themselves, the evidence of the strain laid upon the will 
by the force of the ideal towards which it is set. Life, for 
her, was difficult to manage rightly, and smoothly, just 
because she had kept her spiritual temper unflawed and 
unbeguiled. Still, through all her perplexities, and bewilder- 
ments, she never ceased to walk, with the star of a divine 
mission clear above her head. She kept the heart and the 
simplicity of a child. She had the same faith in God, with 
which a child looks for a father's blessing, and trusts in the 
pardon of Jesus. 

So we have watched her pass unscathed from out of the 
rough and dangerous obscurity in which her days began, 
through all the temptations with which the most over- 
mastering and bewildering success can encompass and 
perplex the path of a world's favourite — until we leave 
her, lifted high above the perils that beset the lower 


way, secure of herself, seciire of a home, secure of spiritual 

There are few careers, M^hich have a more fascinating tale 
to tell of rapid and brilliant passage out of darkness into 
triumph, out of poverty and harshness into a blaze of 
glory. But there is no career which can leave a deeper im- 
pression of the entire supremacy, over all the world can 
bring, of the spiritual motive. She is given everything ; 
and yet all is as nothing, if it does not leave lier free to 
sit alone by the sea-shore, and to look at the sunset, 
and at the old Lutheran Bible, with the pure eyes that can 
see God. 

That was the verdict of Jenny Lind ; and that verdict 
was the secret of her peculiar power. Therefore it is, that 
she has left in men's memories the name of one who, rare 
and splendid as were her gifts, was yet, herself, greater than 
her gifts — of one whose voice sang to them as no other ever 
sung, because it came charged with some high message that 
" no ear hath ever heard." In all this, her life was a standing 
witness against the fallacy that haunts the popular use of the 
plirase, " Art for Art's sake." Nothing, indeed, could sunder, 
or weaken her loyalty to Art. She was an artist of the 
artists. She was true, in her artistic allegiance, to the very 
backbone; and would suffer no alien dominion within the 
frontiers that Art might claim. But with her whole soul, 
she disbelieved in any attempt to allot to Art a domain 
separate from the integral and central self : and that integral 
and central self was spiritual; and, if spiritual, then, of 
inward and inherent necessity, moral. Art could never be 
isolated from this animating principle of which it was the 
expression and the embodiment. It was, in itself, however 
subtle and delicate its mechanical organisation, yet but a 
lifeless body, unless it were filled, and penetrated, and trans- 
figured by the breath of this spiritual soul. Here, then, lay 


its spring of strength. And it is Art itself, therefore, that 
demands of the artist the sacrifice of all that hinders the 
purity of its central source. Yes ! the very treasures and 
gifts of Art might have to be surrendered in order to preserve 
the life itself. The right eye might have to be plucked out, 
the right hand cut off, rather than that the spiritual 
faculty, which alone could use the hand and the eye, should 
be itself ruined, or lost. That we repeat was Jenny Lind's 
unswerving creed : and, under the sanction of that creed, she 
counted the magnificence of her dramatic triumphs as a very 
little thing, in comparison with the duty of retaining her 
highest gift in its noblest exercise. 

We have spoken of this act of hers as of a renunciation, a 
sacrifice : how else could we speak of it, when we recall 
the splendid fame that she abandoned ? And, yet, was there 
anyone who ever bore upon her less sign of effort or of 
struggle in her surrender ? It hardly seemed to have cost 
her a pang to let it go, so strong upon her was the motive- 
pressure of the ideal for the sake of which she cast it all 
behind her. Indeed, she was most strangely independent, not 
merely of fame, but even of that free and public exercise of 
her gifts which many a high artistic soul craves as its essential 
environment. Not only in the resignation of the Stage, but 
in after years, also, when she had practically withdrawn from 
public singing, she seemed to make her surrender with the 
same ease. She had no instinctive hunger for opportunities 
of self-manifestation. There was no restless desire to feel 
her old power at work. The musical ideal was high, and 
gerious as ever ; but she could nurse it alone, or with 
the few who knew. And the firmer the ideal, the more 
rooted grew her horror of all the friction, and the harshness 
of publicity. 

So she lived, without a passing shadow of regretful am- 
bition, for thirty-seven years after her great decision. At 


home in England, her adopted land, she saw grow up, about 
her feet, her children, and her children's^ children ; and to 
the very last, she found her deepest joy in the simplicities of 
children's feasts, and in the sweet homeliness of country- 
scenes. So she lived, quiet and aloof, in honourable dignity, 
in freedom and in beneficence, unvexed by clamour, un- 
traversed by intrigue. The affections of friends she had 
ever about her, intimate and reverential : and the repose 
of home; and the trustfulness of wedded love. This was 
the background she vitally needed in order to secure 
herseK against the ruin of unrest, and to retain, in their 
integrity, her native nobility of soul, her spiritual solemnity, 
her perfect purity of tone. So she remained to the very 
end, original, separate, exalted ; leaving, when she died,* to 
all those who loved her, the impression of something unique 
and incomparable, — 

"the memory of what has been 

And never more will be." 

Never more here, on earth ! Never more will men Ksten 
enthralled by the sound of that singing in which the very 
soul of poetry and holiness seemed to have found for itself a 
living vehicle, a spiritual body. 

No ! Never more here ! But all the gifts that were in 
her, penetrated as they were by spiritual significance, told of 
immortality. Such a presence as hers, erect and prophetic, 
was itself a pledge that its life cannot be spilt as water in 
the dust. It may be burdened, as she was, by the perplexities 
that encompass it with darkness, but it cannot doubt the 
secret which it holds in itself: it cannot doubt its own 
unconquerable hope : it cannot doubt its own witness to the 
necessity of an eternal home where that which here was but 

* She died, at Wynds Point, her cottage on the Malvern Hills, on 
November 2nd, 1887. 


suggested will be achieved — that which here did but begin 
shall be fulfilled. Of her, if of any, is the poet's word 
true — 

" Sorrows are hard to bear ; and doubts are slow to clear ; 
Each sufferer has his say ; his tale of the weal or woe ; 
But God has a few of us whom He whispers in the ear: 
The rest may reason and welcome ! 'Tis we musicians know ! ' * 

' Abt Vogler ' by Robert Browning. 


Copy of a letter to the Editor of " BiografisM Lexicon " (^Sweden), 
Dean P. Wieselgren, and given by him to his son, the then 
acting Editor of this work, H. Wieselgren ; autograph of 
Madame Goldschmidt,* dated : — 

t Ems, Nassau, 

Villa de Beriot, 

7th Septemb. 1865. 
Honoured Sir and Doctor ! — 

Pardon me for not having been able, immediately, to answer 
your kind letter, but, when it arrived, I was just starting on a 
journey, and bave ever since been on the move, so that my head 
has not been cool enough to answer, clearly, the important 
questions about my humble person. 

I am afraid the old Count de la Gardie has said more 
than, in his position, he has quite the right to say ! — for, to my 
knowledge, His Excellency had nothing in the least to do with 
bringing me on in this vain world ; for until I had achieved my 
so-called great success (succes !) on the boards, I never either 
heard or saw anything of that old man, with his stately figure 
and dignified appearance. 

For me mankind, in general, has done very little. I never 
was in want of anything, and asked help of no one. My mother 
provided for me by her own exertions and talents. She, like my- 
self, had the greatest horror of all that was connected with the 

* See vol. i. p. 17. 

t The original autograph is now at the Royal Public Library at 


stage. My beloved, revered grandmother, in virtue of her being 
the widow of a citizen, had rooms in the widows' home provided 
by the town (Stockholm). There, I often visited her, and as I 
sang with every step I took and with every jump of my childish 
feet, so I am sure to have sung during my visits to her. 

The person whom alone I have to thank for the first discernment 
of my gift of song, was the Court Secretary Croelius, who then 
was the Singing-Master at the Eoyal Theatre. He told me all 
that in later years came to pass with me, and it was he who, 
when Count Puke (the then Director of the Theatre) would not 
even look at me, — being at the time a small, ugly, broad-nosed, 
shy, " gauche," altogether undergrown girl, — then said : " Well, 
if M. le Comte will not hear her, then I will teach her gratuit- 
ously, and she will one day astonish you." Count Puke heard 
me instantly, and asked my mother at once to consent to my 
being enrolled as a scholar of the school in connection with the 
Eoyal Theatre. Consequently, it is Count Puke and Croelius 
to whom I am indebted for the discernment of my gifts — and I 
know of no others. 

In the year 1 841 (when I had the great pleasure of making 
your acquaintance, honoured Hr. Doctor), my visit to his Excel- 
lency was not one elicited by gratitude, but simply followed 
his kind invitation. 

Jenny Lind was always my name — I was never called 
Johanna. I was born in 1820, went to Paris in 1841 — and 
returned after having studied there for one year. 

As to the greater part of what I can do in my art, I have 
myself acquired it by incredible work, and in spite of astonish- 
ing difficulties ; it is from Garcia alone that I learned some few 
important things. To such a degree had God written within 
me what I had to study. My ideal was (and is) so high, that 
no mortal was to be found who, in the least degree, could satisfy 
my demands ; therefore I sing after no one's " methode " — only 
after that of the birds (as far as I am able) ; for their Teacher 
was the only one who responded to my requirements for truth, 
clearness, and expression .... 

If now your son, Hr. Doctor, can see his way to drawing from 
these lines something like common sense, then please let him 
do so, to use in such way as seems good to him, provided, how- 


ever, that no individual — living or departed — would thereby be 

My very best thanks for the kind greetings I occasionally 
have received through countrywomen of mine ; it is a great 
pleasure to hear something — if even only now and then — from 
my honoured Hr. Doctor. 

Asking you warmly to include me in your prayers, I remain, 
with the deepest respect, 

Yours, Hr. Doctor, 

Humbly and affectionately, 

Jenny Lind-Goldschmidt. 

Note. — In reading this letter, it must be remembered that it is written 
in answer to definite questions put to her, i.e. (1) as to the private 
influence or support that first brought her forward ; and, (2) as to the 
school in which she learned her " methode." It is in meeting the first 
question that she declares, without qualification, that she had never 
received, or needed any artificial favour. Her gifts had been discerned by 
the proper authorities ; that was all that had happened. As to the second 
inquiry, she can answer roundly that she belongs to no particular, or 
special School of Singing. It will be seen, from the letter itself, that it 
was written en voyage ; that it was only intended to supply the rough 
material from which some " common sense " might be extracted ; and that 
nothing in it was so to be used as to wound anybody, living or dead. 


AT STOCKHOLM. 1848 to 1891. 


1848. — April 12. Twenty-two thousand Swedish dollars 
banco (£1,833),* representing the entire sum of her own gains 
during her last dramatic season at Stockholm (December, 1847, 
to April, 1848), were placed by Mademoiselle Jenny Lind in 
the hands of two trustees (one of them being her guardian. 
Judge Munthe) to serve as the nucleus of a "Fund for the 
education and support of pupils at the Eoyal Theatre School." 

1848-1854. — By capitalising the interest, the " Fund," at the 
end of 1854, amounted to something over 29,000 Swedish 
dollars banco (about £2,400). 

At this time, Madame Goldschmidt decided upon changing 
the immediate Object of the Fund, owing, as she writes in an 
expose of October 16, to the fact that " the original sum of 22,000 
dollars banco, although somewhat increased through accumu- 
lation of interest, will become sufficient only at too distant a 
period for the attainment of all the objects I had in view when 
starting the fund ; " and while hitherto it had been called in 
the accounts of the trustees, " Fund for the education of pupils 
at the theatre," it was henceforth termed : " Fru Jenny Lind- 
Goldschmidt's Stipendiifond." 

1855-1860. — No demand was made upon the Fund under 
its fresh title during these five years. The interest was again 
capitalised, and by the end of 1859 the capital amounted to 
36,700 dollars banco, equivalent to 55,000 crowns, of the new 
currency (about £3,000). 

* See Book VIII., Ch. II., pp. 195 and 203. 


1860. — By a document dated September 6, 1860, the do- 
natrix stipulated that when the capital had reached the sum 
of 60,000 crowns, the income was to be used for the granting of 
one or two travelling scholarships to Swedish-born students 
(male or female), of acknowledged good conduct, and showing- 
particular talent either for Music, Painting, Sculpture, or Archi- 
tecture, who having already received at home the requisite 
preparation in their respective branches of art, are desirous "to 
obtain by travel and residence in foreign lands more complete 
instruction and the highest possible development in the exercise 
of their respective branches of the fine arts." 

The deed recites farther : " That such scholarships are to lie 
competed for before a committee of experts at Stockholm. 

" That the donatrix reserves to herself a veto ; and that 
each scholarship, when bestowed, is to be held for one year, 
subject to renewal, for not exceeding three j-ears. 

" Also, that in case of the donatrix's death, her husband is 
to stand in her place, and to become one of three ti-ustees."' 

1862. — In the year 1862, the fund had attained the stipu- 
lated amount of 60,000 crowns, and more. 

Under the foregoing conditions, the following scholars were 
subsequently elected : — 

1863-1866.- — Anders Petterson, violinist and musician (now 
attached to the teaching staff of Eugby School, England). 

1866-1869. — Ernst Jacobsson, architect (now Professor at 
the Eoyal Academy of Arts of Sweden, and Inspector of the 
Eoyal Palaces). 

1869. — August Soderman, composer and conductor (since 

1870-1874. — J. A. Hagg, pianist and composer. 

Owing to the Scholarship having been granted to one indi- 
vidual only at a time, the capital increased by funding the 
surplus interest, amounting at the close of 1875 to nearly 
80,000 crowns (about £-1,400), and the donatrix now decided 
upon farther development of the scheme. 

1876. — ■' In order,'" she writes, to the two Eoyal Academics 
of Sweden, that of the Fine Arts and that of Music, under date 
of June 12, 1876, "in order to farther enlarge the scope of 

2 G 

450 APPENDIX 11. 

what has already been attempted with the means available from 
this Scholarship Fund, and while in the main agreeing with the 
earlier dispositions governing it, I have determined that the 
capital amounting, on December 31, 1875, to 79,719 crowns, 
71 ore, shall be divided at the end of the present year into two 
equal parts, and be handed over permanently, one portion to 
the Eoyal Academy of Music, and the second portion to the 
Royal Academy of Fine Arts, for the establishment of Travel- 
ling Scholarships, of the amount of 3,000 crowns each (4,000 
francs = £160), at the Eoyal Academy of Music for musicians, 
and at that of the Fine Arts, for either painters, sculptors, or 

Conditions similar to those of September, 6, 1860 (see p. ii.), are 
then laid down regarding qxialifications of candidates, viz., as to 
acknowledged good conduct, decided talent, previous adequate 
preparation, sexes, limitation of age, &c. ; but no Scholarship 
is to be announced for competition until and unless the income 
permits of its amount being 3,000 crowns, as previously stated 
in the letter of June 12, 1876. 

The Fund, and consequently the Scholarships, from both 
institutions, are to bear the name — 

"Jenny Lind Stipendii." 

The two Academies * having each received, and acknow- 
ledged on December 27, 1876, the sum of 41,783 crowns 75 ore, 
accepted the preferred trust with the above-named regulations 
laid down in the letter of the gift of June 12, 1876 — and since 
that date, in accordance with the mode of election respectively 
obtaining at each of the Academies, the Scholarships have been 
competed for with the following result : 

Boyal Academy of Music. • Eoyal Academy of Fine Arts. 

1885 and 1886. — Fkoken Valboeg 1886-1889.— Heek Axel A. H. 

AvLiN, Composer and Pianist. Jukgstedt, Painter. 

1888, 1889, and 1890.— Herr Carl 1889-90. — Herr Christian Eriks- 

AuGUST SoDERMAN,t Dramatic Singer. son, Sculptor. 

(The above record, assisted by notes from Judge Carl Munthe, has been 
compiled from documents and letters by Otto Goldschmidt, February, 1891.) 

* On August 26, 1876, the Eoyal Academy of Fine Arts unanimously 
elected Mde. Lind-Goldschmidt an Honorary Member, a distinction accorded— 
so writes the President — for the first time. The donatrix had been a member 
of the Royal Academy of Music since the year 1840. 

•}■ Son of the composer Soderman, elected in 1869. 









1. Three Cadenze fkom Bellini's Opera Beatrice di Tenda. 

2. Cadenza at the close op the Andante in Bellini's Opera 

/ Puritani, Act II., Scene 7. 

3. Cadenza in Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor, No. 15, " FercJie 

11011 ho." 

4. Cadenza contributed in 1884 to Dr. Ferdinand IIiller's Col- 

lection OF Autographs. 
o. Cadenza in Pamina's Aria in Mozart's Die Zauberflote, Act II., 
No. 18. 

6. Two Cadenze in Aminta's Aria, with Violin Obbligato in 

Mozart's II lie Fastore, No. 10. 

7. Close in Chopin's Mazurka in A flat. Op. 24, No, 3 (as 


8. Deux Cadences d'Etude. 


9. "Ah non Cbedea" (Amina), from Bellini's Opera, La Son- 

10. " Una Voce poco fa," from Rossini's II Barliere di Siviglia. 


11. Berg's Herdegossen {Fjerran i Skog) A and B. 

12. Norwegian Echo Song. 

2 G 2 

All rights restrccd. 

( 45,'] ) 



Theke has been a consensus of opinion among those who have been 
engaged in the production of these volumes, that the Art-Life 
would be rendered more complete by including some of the 
Cadenze and other adornments, which are acknowledged to have 
greatly enhanced the charm of Madame Goldschmidt's per- 
formances, both on the Stage and in the Concert Room. 

I have therefore put together (for this work) a selection of 
lier Cadenze, and have added two Scandinavian songs, and two 
entire numbers from Bellini's Sotmanihida and Rossini's Barhiere, 
with the embellishments introduced by her. 

The Memoir has for obvious reasons been limited to a certain 
date ; but no such restraint appeared requisite in this Appendix 
of Music ; and indeed, had this prevailed, few only of the 
Cadenze here given could have been included ; for some were 
composed in connection with the Concert Room, others again 
were written for pupils, and all, I may state, whether owing 
to revision or to the actual date of their composition, reflect in 
the form here given a maturer time of life than that at which 
the Memoir ends. 

This remark applies distinctly also to the practice of the 
shake (il trillo), which was considered by Madame Goldschmidt 
the choicest of ornaments. 

Among her papers were found, written down, some bars of 
music illustrating the way in which she not only practised the 
shake herself, but also latterly taught it to others ; and more 
particularly caused it to be practised day by day by her pupils 
at the Royal College of Music. The technical chapter near the 


end of Book YIII., lieaded " The Method," appeared, however, 
the more fitticg place for the insertion of this illustration, and 
to that it has consequently been assigned. 

In order to make the following Cadenze practically useful 
both to the Maestro and the Adept of 11 Diiino Canto, I have 
indicated the precise bars where they were introduced with so 
much effect. If any are found available for practical use, 
provided the name of the authoress is acknowledged, the main 
object of their publication will be attained. 

In Book VIII., Chapter VII., and also in Book IX,, Chapter V., 
testimony is borne to the literal way in which Madame Gold- 
schmidt — without any change — adhered to the text of the 
Oratorio, as indicated by the great composers. So there cannot 
be examples from this source. 

Madame Schumann, Herr Hauser, and others, give like 
testimony, regarding her loyal rendering of Mozart's music ; I 
am therefore unable to present more than three Cadenze con- 
nected with the music of Mozart, and these only because the 
composer himself had indicated the place for their introduction. 

Farther information will be found preceding the several 
numbers in this Appendix, and it remains only for me grate- 
fully to acknowledge the assistance I have received in con- 
nection with several of the following examples from two of 
my late wife's pupils, viz., Mdlle. Amalia Kiego,* of Stockholm, 
at present in the United States, and Miss Anna Eussell (now 
Mrs. Barton), from Ireland, elected to one of the original open 
Scholarships iu the Eoyal College of Music, London. 

Otto Goldschmidt. 
LoxDox, Fehruaru, 18'Jl. 

* Mdlle. Kiego, a pupil of Herr Berg, Madame Goldschmidt's early- 
master, was earnestly recommended, in an autograjih letter by His Majesty 
King Oscar II. of Sweden and Norway, for tuition by Madame Goldschmidt, 
who consequently gave her instruction for two years. 


Eoyal, Loudon, 
"Westmorland, i. 

an evening 

Academy of Music, 
founded Ijy Lord 

Achievement, i. 153. 

Adelaide, Queen, ii. 152 

^ with, ii. 175. 

AhmanssoD, Froken Josephine, ii. 235 ; 
a trusty comi^anion, ii. 257; piety 
of, ii. 339 ; illness of, ii. 362 ; 
recovering, ii. 393. 

Aix la Chapelle, i. 407, 413; Jenny 
Lind at, i. 409. 

Albert Institute, the, ii. 432. 

Alboni, Mdlle, i. 128 ; first great Eng- 
lish triumph, ii. 56, 277, 299. 

Alexander's Feast, i. 411. 

Altona, i. 261 ; Jenny Lind at, i. 290. 

Am Aarensee rauscht der viel griine 
Wald, i. 255. 

America, foreshadowed, ii. 355 ; first 
letter from, ii. 418; a splendid coun- 
try, ii. 421 ; the woman's cry, ii. 437. 

Andersen, Hans, i. 173, 174 ; letter to, 
i. 179 ; pictures of home life, i. 186; 
in Jeimy Lind's album, i. 285 ; poem 
on Jenny Lind, i. 288, 289 ; Jenny 
Lind's friendship with, i. 345 ; 
Christmas tree, i. 345, 346. 

"Annotation Book" of Jenny Lind, i. 

Anticipation, i. 1. 

Appendix I., 445. 

Appendix II., 447. 

Appendix of Music, — 

Appoggiatura of the 18th cent., ii. 145. 

Arnemann, Consul, i. 290 ; Jenny 
Lind's visit to, i. 299; letter, i. 
351 ; at Leipzig, i. 372 ; Jenny 
Lind's visit to, i. 418 ; Mendelssohn's 
interview with, ii. 44 ; Mme. in Paris, 
ii. 348. 

Amim, Frau Bettina, i. 

ASPIIiATION, i. 103. 


At Home once more, i. 259. 

Atlantic, the, ii. 413. 

Atterbom, Swedish poet, i. 87. 

Auf FlUgeln des Gesanges (Mendels- 
sohn), i. 411. 

Auf Wiedersehen i. 358. 

Augsburg, Jenny Lind at, ii. 21. 

Austria, Empress of. ii. 15 ; Emperor, 
ii. 28. 


Balfe, Mr., Conductor at Her Majesty's 
Theatre, ii. 55 ; Conductor on Jenny 
Lind's first provincial tour, ii. 161 ; 
his air All ! forse, ii. 166. 

Barnum, Mr., his proposals, ii. 364; 
dissertation on, ii. 365; his liberal 
conduct to Jenny Lind, ii. 369 ; 
Jenny Lind's commendation of, ii. 

Bates, Joah, ii. 146. 

Bayard, Mdlle. i. 32, 34 ; ii. 358. 

Beaulieu, Court Chamberlain, i. 347 

Beaumarchais, criticism on the Figaro 
of, ii. 144. 

Becher, Dr., ii. 37. 

Beethoven, Statue of, i. 269. 

Behrens, Miss, Mme. Lamm, ii. 331. 

Belletti, Signor (baritone), i. 96, 105, 
ii. 227 ; on American tour, ii. 367, 
368, 372 ; at Liverpool, ii. 403 ; on 
tour with Madame Goldschmidt, ii. 

Bellini's I Puritani. 

Bellman, influence of, i. 12. 

Benecke, Mrs. Victor, daughter of 
3Iendelssohn, i. 424. 

Benedict, Sir Julius, conducting at 
Liverpool, ii. 257; conducting on 
latter part of tour, ii. 264 ; at Exeter 
Hall, ii. 272 ; assists in American 
arrangements, ii. 366 ; engaged as 
Conductor, ii. 366 ; contract with, ii. 
368 ; Jenny Lind's estimation of, ii. 



o71 ; Lis udmiratiou of Lindblad's 
songs, ii. 424 ; as Sir J. i. 237. 

15cr<?, HeiT, i. 49-51,270; invited to 
England, ii. 203 ; pleasant visit, ii. 
2 17 ; a messenger from King Oscar I, 
ii. 358 ; his Herdecjossen (see Ap- 
pendix of Music). 

Berlin, at the Court of, i. 194; the 
Return to. i. 299 ; recepliim of .Jenny 
Lind at. ii. 184; concert at, ii. 381, 
388; The Xew Opera House at, i. 

Berwald, ( 'apellmeister, i. 59. 

Berwald, Herr Franz, ii. 28. 

Beskow, Baron Bernhard von, i. 87. 

Birch-Pfeifter. Mme., i. 218; a good 

■■ teacher, i. 220 ; draws up letter to 
Mr. Bunn, i. 247 ; her correction of 
text of Die Vestalin, i. 337, 338 ; 
knowledge of stage business, i. 391 ; 
negotiations for libretto, i. 391 ; letter 
from Jenny Lind to, ii. 3 ; Mendels- 
hohu's correspondence with, ii. 9, 30 ; 
letter from Jenny Lind to, about 
libretto, ii. 12(j ; tinal retirement from 
scheme, ii. 127 ; letter from Jenny 
Lind on retirement, ii. 333 ; letter 
from Jenny Liud to, ii. 352 ; her 
daughter Minui, ii. 354. 

Birmingham, ii. 253. 

Blumm, Herr, i. 107 ; meeting at Herr 
Blumm's, i. 121 ; on an excursion, i. 
127 ; his goodness, i. 137. 

Pjonde Palace, The, i. 65, 15(j. 

Bournonville, Mons., i. 58 ; induces 
Jenny liind to sing at Copenhagen, 
i. 170 ; incident, i. 175 ; entertains 
Jenny Innd, i. 281. 

Bread, Swedish, i. 122, 359. 

Bremen, Jcuuy Lind at, ii. 379. 
Bremer, Fredrikn, i. 87, ISO; ii. 422. 

Brockhaus. Herr Heinricli, i. 257 ; diary 
of, i. 269, 326; Jenny Lind the guest 
of, i. 371 ; iliary 1846, i. 371, 372. 
Brockhaus, Dr. I'lduuard, diary of, i. 

■ 329 to 333. 

BitOMPTON Hospital, Concert fok, ii. 
224; Jenny Liud's programme for, 
ii. 228. 

Briihl, i. 268; castle of, i. 271. 

Brunswick, ii. 380; address at, ii. 381. 

Brunton, Mr., ii. 356. 

Buck, Mr., organist, Norwich Cathe- 
dral, ii. 168. 

Bunn, Mr. Alfred, lessee, Druiy Lane, i. 
228 ; Contract, the, i. 228 ; et seq. 
not signed by Mr. Bmiu, i. 236 ; letter 

■ to Jenny I.,ind, i. 249 ; contract 

(roidinned), i. 290 ; 'T Affaire Bunn," 
i. 437; counsel's opinion on, ii. 45; 
.Teunv land's letter to INIr. Buuu, ii. 
46 : verdict, ii. 198-200. 
Biirnham Beeches, ii. 93. 

BV CoillMAND 01' TlIK QuEEN, ii. 151. 

Cadenze, ii. 220 (^See also Appendix 

of Music). 
Carkku. i. 40. 
Carl Alixaiider, Prince, of Weimar, 

i. 348. 
Carl Augustus, Grand Duke of Saxc- 

AVeimar-Eisenach, i. 348. 
Carlsbad, i. 372. 

tiarlsruhe, Jenny Lind at, ii. IS. 
Casta Diva, i. 214; at Leipzig, i. 326 ; 

in London, ii. 118. 
Castellan, Mme. ii. 70 ; in Fi(jar«. ii. 

Catalani, Mme., 1. 196; death of. ii. 

Cavaliere, Emilio del. ii. 268. 
Character, i. 71. 
Charity, For, ii. 251 
Childhood, i. 11. 

Chopin in London, ii. 209, 210, 309. 
Cliorley, Mr., i. 430; pleasure in hear- 
ing Jenny Lind, i. 430, 431 ; letters 
to Mrs. Grote and Mendelssohn, i. 
i 431. 

j Christmas Eye, Swedish, i. 216. 
1 Clairville, At, ii. 79; Jenny Liud's 
! account of, ii. 84. 
I (Jlose of the Season, The, ii. 234. 
Coletti, ii. 60 : in Figaro, ii. 147 ; at a 

concert, ii. 227. 
Collin, Geheinnath Jonas, i. 285. 
Cologne, i. 407, ii. 349. 
Concert Room, In the, i. 253. 
Concert, Royal, at Windsor, ii. 432. 

By coniniaud, ii. 177. 
In the provinces, ii. 177. 
Contract with Mi;. Lemley, i, 426. 
Copenhagen, i. 169-175 ; Jcunv Liud 

at, i. 283-284. 
Corrksrondence avitii Mendelssohn, 

i. 386; suite, i. 401. 
Costa, Sir Michael, ii. ^o. 
Court of Berlin, At the, i. 194. 
C'ourt Singer, Jenny Lind appointed 

Swedish, i. 92. 
( 'oveut Garden,, Italian Opera inaugu- 
rated at, ii. 55. 
Speculators, ii. 59. 



Creation, The, Haydn's, i. -108 ; criti- 
cal remarks on, i. 41U ; at Vienna, ii. 

C'ra'lius, Herr, discrimiuatioa of, i. 20 ; 
portrait with inscription by Jenuv 
Liud, i. 21. 

CiuvLlli, Mdllc, first appearance ia 
London, ii. 208 ; at concert for 
Bromptnn Hospital, 227, 229. 

Ciizzoni, ii. 50. 


Daguy, tlie, i. 70. 

Darmstadt, i. 278 ; Jenny Liud at, i. 

Das Felulageu in Schlesien, i. 218. 
Debut, The, i. 211. 
Debut at Viexxa, The, i. 378. 
De'but, the, reported in Paris, i. 140, 

150: in Berlin, i. 211; in Vienna, 

i. 378 ; in London, ii. 08-73. 
Depautuke, ii. 400. 
Desideria, Queen, wife of Bernadotte, 

i. 105 ; lier watch, i. 11)1. 
Dessaner, Dr. Von, ii. 15. 
Devrient, Sclirooder-. Mme., i. 195 ; at 

Wei ler's interment, i. 238; mentioned 

by Mr. Buun, i. 293 ; mentioned by 

Herr Eellstab, as Valentine, i. 354, 

ii. 140 
Dietz, Justin, ii. 388. 
Difficulties, managerial, ii. 53. 
Directors, courtesy of, i. 427 ; Author's 

thanks to, i. 427. 
DiscovEuy, i. 55. 
Disraeli, the Eight Hon. B., on Jenny 

Lind, ii. 232. 
Dolby, Miss, duet witli Jenny Lind, i. 

327 ; at Liverpool, ii. 257. 
Donizt-tti, ii. 104. 
Drama, the, ii. 207. 
DuESDEN, In, i. 185. 
Drurv Lane Theatre, i. 290. 
Diisseldorf, i. 407, 431. 


Echo song, Norwegian. (See Appendix 

of Music). 
Ed-SoUentuna, i. 13. 
Edinburgh, Jenny Liud at, ii. 104. 
Elijali, Mendelssohn's letter upon, i. 

402 ; first performance of, i. 435 ; 

first performance in London, ii. 61 ; 

Jenny Lind's opinion of, ii. 352, 

353. (See also ii. 241 ; ii. 353.) 
Elizabeth, Queen of Prussia, i. 197 ; 

receives (^ueen Victoria and the 

Prince Consort, i. 208. 
Empress Mother of Austria, the, i. 

Ems, Jennys Lind at, ii. 353. 
Erikson, Mine., i. 55 ; letter from 

Jenny Lind to, i. 310 ; ii. 330. 
Ernst, on tour with 3Ir. and Madame 

Goldschmidt, ii. 431. 
Etoi'ie du Xord, L\ famous trio from 

Vielka, transferred to, ii. 32, 33. 
Eunjauthe, remarks on, i. 239. 
Exeter Hall. Elijah at, ii. 01. 
Exeter Hall, ]\Iadarae Goldschmidt at. 

ii. 431. 

Fellborg, Anna Maria, character of, 
i. 32. 

Ferdinand, the Emperor, and his 
Consort, ii. 28. 

Ferndal, Carl, i. 13. 

Festival, The Lower Rhine, i. 301. 

Ficker, Charlotte and Matilda, i. 32. 

FiiiLiA DEL Peggijiento. La, 11. 102. 

Fjerran i Shog, i. 190, 331. {See abo 
Appendix of ■Music). 

• Fops' Alley,' ii. 02 ; standing-room 
in, ii. 151. 

Forsberg, Herr, i. 23 ; letter to, u. 433. 

Frankfurt, Jenny Lind at, i. 272, 420. 

Fraschini, Signor, ii. 00, 70. 

French, the Baroness, ii. 318, 300, 395, 

FiiErscHUTZ, Der, i. 310. 

Freischtit-, Di r, remarks on, i. 55, 239. 
310, ii. 300. 

Friedrich AVilheim IV. of Prussia, i. 
201 ; wishes Jenny Lind to sing to 
his Koyal gue.^ts, CJueeu Victoria and 
the Prince Consort, i. 207 ; gne.'sts in- 
vited, i. 208 ; summons Mendelssohn 
to Berlin, i. 330 ; farewell to Jenny 
Lind, ii. 188 ; summons Jenny Lind 
to Berlin for the (Queen's birtliday, 
ii. 350. 

FiuENDs IN Engl.vnd, ii. 300. 

FrdhliiKjdied (]Men:lelssoliu^, i. 411. 

FituiTiON, ii. 321, 

Fundin, Mina, i. 27 ; friendship for 
Jenny Lind, i. 34 ; among the hay- 
stacks, i. 38; invited to meet Jenny 
Lind, i. 418. 

Fmrger familv, birthplace of the, ii. 

FitrdeiKjnJf the. at Weimar, i. 317. 




Gade, Niels W., Herr, i. 285. 

Garcia, Manuel, Siguor, i. 108 ; first 
opinion of Jenny Lind, i. 109 ; verdict, 
i. 110;rcleuts, i.ll3, 157; the greatest 
singing-master of the century, i. 
115 ; on Jenny Lind in tragedy, i. 
126 ; Jenny Lind's attention to his 
teaching, ii. 324. 

Garcia, Viardot. Mme., success of, ii. 40. 

Gardie, Count J. G. de la, i. C7, 87. 

Gardoui, Siguor, ii. 57, 70 : on tour with 
Jenny Lind, ii. 161. 

Gasssr, Herr, ii. 15. 

Gustrollen, i. 206 ; agreements for, 
i. 219 ; at Copenhagen, i. 280, 281 ; 
at Hamburg, i. 280; at Berlin, i. 301. 

Geibel, Dr., ii. 132. 

Geijer, Erik Gustaf, Herr, i. 89 ; his in- 
lluence, i. 96, 411 ; at Upsala Uni- 
versity, ii. 370. 

Geijer, Mme., letters from, i. 412, 413. 

George V. of Hanover, i. 417. 

Ge-\vanduaus, At the, i. 323 ; concerts 
at Leipzig, i. 324 ; once moke, at 
THE, i. 371. 

Goal, The, ii. 179. 

Goal, Within sight of the, i. 128. 

Goldschmidt, Madame, summary of 
later professional career, ii. 431; 
concert at Cannes, i. 150, ii. 431 ; 
gift of mimicry, ii. 433 ; a severe 
critic, ii. 433 ; lier inner life, ii. 433 et 
seq. ; lier dominant self. ii. 436 ; date 
of death, ii. 443; on her own per- 
formance of Alice at Her Majesty's 
Theatre, ii. 70 ; decides on founding 
the Jenny Lind Infirmary for Sick 
Children at Norwich, ii. 257 ; letter 
to Fr. von Jaeger on the study of 
singing, ii. 301, 302 ; objections to 
contortions of visage by vocalists, 
ii. 303 ; considered singing beneficial 
to the chest, ii. 303 ; letter to Mr. 
Deacon, ii. 303, 304 ; visits the King 
and Queen of Hanover, 1876, ii. 379. 

Goldschmidt, Mr. Otto, as accom- 
jjanyist, i. 322 ; eaily days iu Leipzig, 
i. 325; plays at concert for Brompton 
Hospital, ii. 227 ; solo pianist on tour, 
ii. 264; at Hamburg accompanying 
.Tenny Lind, ii. 357 ; at the Liibeck 
Ijall, ii. 373 ; at a concert (Liibeck). 
ii. 397; joins American toui-, ii. 417; 
man-iage to Jenny Lind, ii. 426 ; 
co-operation with Madame, ii. 431 ; 
his Ruth, ii. 431. 

Gorgel, the man servant, i. 398. 

Gorres, Jos. von, ii. 15. 

Gothenburg, Jenny Lind resting at, i. 

Gottingen, ii. 374, 375 ; the ribbon, ii. 

" Green volumes," the, Mendelssohn's, 
at Leipzig, i. 393; ii. 12, 13, 125. 

Grillparzer, i. 5, 406 ; epigrams by, ii. 

Grisi, Norma, the Donna Anna of, 1. 
306 ; the celebrity of, ii. 53 ; secedes 
from Her Majesty's Theatre, ii. 55 ; 
her style, i. 120; as Norma, i. 212; 
iu revolt, i. 432. 

Grote, Mr. Joseph, entertains Jenny 
Lind, ii. 340. 

Grote, Mrs. G., on early life of Jenny 
Lind, i. 232 ; on first appearance of 
Jenny Lind before Queen Victoria 
and the Prince Consort, i. 271 ; cha- 
racters of Mr. and ]Mrs. Grote, i. 273_; 
oflers mediation with Mr. Bunn, i. 
273; withdraws, i. 296; desires 
Jenny Lind to come to England, i. 
429 ; entertains Jenny Lind, ii. 61 ; 
her box at Her Majesty's Theatre, ii. 
62 ; dinner party, ii. 63 ; account of 
private concert, ii. 92 ; on Mr. 
Lumley's Fete champetre, ii. 156, 157 ; 
with Jenny Lind at Bath, ii. 175; 
departure, ii. 176 ; Jenny Lind's early 
confidence in, ii. 325, 226 ; accoin- 
panies Jenny Lind to Newcastle, ii. 

Giinther, Herr, i. 109 ; at Westerwik, 
i. 176; engagement to Jenny Lind, 
ii. 204 ; broken ofi', ii. 340. 


Hale'vy, La Tempesta, ii. 132. 

Hall, Mr. S. C, ii. 227. 

Hall, Mrs. S. C, ii. 230. 

Hamilton, Count, Director of the Royal 

Theatre at Stockholm, i. 192,411. 
Handel, monument to, ii. 431 ; revival 

of L Allegro ed II Penseroso, ii. 431 ; 

Messiah, at Liverpool, ii. 
Hanover and the Drama, i. 259 ; the 

Eoval Family of, i. 417 ; concert at, 

ii. 379. 
Hanover, the King and Queen of, ii. 

373 ; became acquainted witli Jenny 

Lind, ii. 374 ; the Queen's Eeminis- 

ccuces, ii. 376-378; Madame Gold- 

schmidt's visit to them in 1876, ii. 




Harper, Mr. T., ii. 272. 

Harris, Captain Claudius, ii. 340, 341, 
344. 345, 346. 

Hasseit Bartia. Mme., i. 386. 

Hauptmann. Herr Moritz. i. 404 ; and 
Mozartian tradition, ii. 146. 

Hauptmann. Mme. Milder, ii. 146. 

Hauser, F., Herr, letter from Mendels- 
sohn, i. 381 ; kind oflfers to Jenny 
Lind, 1. 382, 383 ; Director of tlie 
Conservatorium at Munich, ii. 11 ; 
letter to Mendelssohn, ii. 14 ; in 
society, ii. 15 ; Mozartian tradition, 
ii. 146. 

Heidelberg, Jenny Lind at, ii. 20. 

Heimdall, the, on Jenny Lind's career 
i. 42 ; on Herr Berg and his little 
pupil, i. 49. 

Hendrichs, Herr, ii. 381. 

Her Majesty's Theatre, i. 274 ; affairs 
in disorder, i. 432 ; review of per- 
plexities, ii. 53 ; Mrs. Grote's box at, 
ii. 62 ; artists in the audience on 
"Lind nights," ii. Ill; June 15th, 
1847, ii. 113; list of performances 
at, ii. 176. 

Hierta, M. Lars, i. 146, 152; letter 
from Jenuy Liiid, i. 207 ; from the 
same. ii. 192. 

Hiertas, the, i. 146 ; Jenny Lind, ac- 
companies the, home, i. 152. 

Hoffmann, Ernst, i. 304. 

Hofoperntheater at Vienna, i. 386. 

Homage to Weber, i. 237. 

Home Again, ii. 191. 

Home : and after, i. 155. 

Home once more, ii. 399. 

Horsley, Mr. W., ii. 88. 

How DID Jenny Lintj come to leave 
the stage, ii. 323. 

HrcuENOTS, Les, i. 352. 

11 soave e hen contento, from Niohe, i. 

In Paris, i. 105. 

In Presence of the Queen, i. 268. 
In Via Eequies, i. 417. 
InteiTiatioual Exhibition, the, ii. 431. 
Introduction, i. 1. 


Jacobsbergsgata, the, i. 24. 

Jaeger, Fiiiulein Auguste von, i. 34 ; 

letter to, ii. 395. 
Jaeger, Fran von, letter to, ii. 83, 84. 

Jaeger, Professor von, ii. 33. 
Jennings, Mr., Jenny Lind"s solicitor, 

ii. 47. 
'•Jenny Lind Festival," the, i. 411. 
Jensen, i. 173 ; present from, i. 175, 

Joachim, Professor ii. 31 ; on tour with 

Madame Ooldschmidt, ii. 431. 
Johansson, Louise, i. 13 ; resides with 

Jenny Lind, i. 64 ; letter to, i. 97 ; 

companion to Jenny Lind, i. 156, 

196 ; spoke only Swedish, ii. 160. 
Josephson. Jacob Axel, i. 167; account 

of, i. 168 ; estimate of Jenny Lind 

after Copenhagen, i. 176, 177 ; 

welcomes Jenny Lind to Dresden, i. 

188 ; visits Jenny Lind at Berlin, i. 

216 ; Jenny Lind's assistance to, i. 

Jubilee, National (Stockholm), i. 164. 
Julotta, the, i. 122. 
Jungken, Professor, ii. 383. 


Kammersangerin, appointment as 

Austrian, ii. 35 ; as Prussian, ii. 

189, 190. 
Karl Johan XIV. (Bernadotte), i. 164, 

Karntnerthor Theater at Vienna, i. 

Kaskel, Herr Karl, i. 189. 
Kaulbach. Wilhelm von, introduction 

to, ii. 5 ; Jenny Lind's opinion of, 

ii. 6 ; society at his house, ii. 15 ; 

letters to Madame, ii. 16, 234. 
Kelly, Michael, ii. 145, 146. 
Kemble, Adelaide (Mrs. Sartoris), ii. 

Kemble, Fanny (Mrs. Butler), ii. 68. 
Kent, the Duchess of, H.E.H., ii. 68. 
Keusche Gottin (Casta diva), i. 214 ; 

sung at the Gewandhaus at Leipzig, 

i. 326. 
King, Mr. (the flautist), ii. 227, 229. 
Kndchehrud, Swedish, i. 122, 359. 
Kocii, Monsieur and Madame von, i. 

101 ; valued friends of Jenny Lind. 

i. 232 ; visit to, i. 266 ; relatives of 

the Grotes, i. 272. 
Kiistner, Herr von, i. 218 ; letters 

from, ii. 182. 

Lablache, Signor, hints to Jenny Lind 
on the pronunciation of Italian, ii. 
11; celebritv of, ii. 53; "sa«s re- 



proche," ii. 55; letter from, ii. 58; 
friendly to Jenny lAnd, ii. 84 ; in 
La Te'iitpesiitu, ii. Vd'I ; in Figaro, ii. 
147; Jenny Liud on, ii. 153; as 

. Dottorc Dulcamara, ii. 218 ; at con- 
cert for Erompton Hospital, ii. 227; 
on Jenny Lind's singing, ii. 301 ; in 
London society, ii. 309. 

Iial)Iaehe, iSigiior Frederic, i. 1:)2; on 
tour witli Jenny Lind. ii. 161 ; on 
tour witli Mr. and Madame Gold- 
sclimidt, ii. 431. 

Ladugardslands Cliurcli, i. 101. 

lian.«do\vnc House, concert at, ii. 92. 

I^aporte, ]M., ii. 54. 

l.assaulx, Piofessor. ii. 15. 

Last Opeua, Thk, ii. 275. 

Last wokds, ii. 430. 

Leeds, Jenny Lind at. ii. 230. 

Lehmaun, Edward, i. 285. 

l^eipzig, i. 324-334 ; the Conserva- 
torium at, i. 32.5 ; another concert 
at, ii. 371-377. 

Lewiu, Mr. Ed., i. 273; important 
letter from. ii. 44, 45 ; report from 
Vienna, ii. 50; aecoinpanies Jenny 
Lind on tour. ii. 160 ; at home in 
Swedish, ii. 160 : the friend of Jenny 
Lind, ii. 160. 310 : escorts Jenny 
Lind to England, ii. 335. 

Lexicon, Swedish Biographical, i. 17. 
(See also Appendix I.) 

Lihretio, Mendelssohn's difKculty in 
procuring a, ii. 126-132. 

Lind, Fru,'' character of, i. 32, 33, G2, 
63 ; embittered temper, i. QQ, 160 ; 
in Stockholm with .fenny, ii. 201 ; 
greetings to IMadame Jaeger, ii. 201 ; 
death of, ii. 424. 

Liud. Jenny, Itetrospectiou, i. 1-7 ; 
birth, parentage, and early life, i. 
11-14; return to Stockholm,!. 14; 
detection of musical gilts, i. 15 ; the 
liistoric " fanfare," i. 16; ado^jtion i. 
17 ; introduction to Crcelius, i. 18 ; 
acceptance, i. IS; school of pupils, 
i. 10; Pri'iLAGK, i. 23; agreement, 
1. 25-27; summary of training, i. 
28, 29 ; piano playing, i. 30, 31 ; 
drawing, i. 31 : needlework, i. 31 ; 
career, i. 40; Heimdall, i. 42 ; new 
departure, 1. 52 ; discoveky, i. 55 ; 
overstrain, L 59, 60 ; in the haystacks, 
i. 61 ; leaves lu r mother, i. 64 ; final 
disruption, 1. (j^ ; serenade and pre- 
sentation of jdate, i. G^, 67 ; stand- 
point 1840. i. 68 : intiuence of 
characters, i. 72 ; "Willis's remark. 

i. 73 ; Jenny Lind's charm, i. 75 ; in 
Stockholm society, i. 76 ; ordeal of 
introduction to Jenny Lind in later 
life, i. 80 ; conversation of, i. 84 ; per- 
sonal appearance of, i. 87 ; character- 
istic charities, i. 98 ; overstrain, i. 90 : 
remuneration, 1840, 1. 100 ; object of 
visit to Paris,!. 107; Mme. Soult's 
reception, 1. 108 : Garcia's sentence, 
i. 110 ; energy and perseverance, i. 
112 ; ah initio, i. 115 ; scale practice, 
i. 115, 129, 158; the sliake, i. 115, 
129, 158; management of the breath. 
i. 116, 131; Garcia satisfied,!. 117; 
"Who will light the Christmas tree 
for my mother?" i. 122; absence of 
jealousy, i. 123 ; railway accident, 
i. 127; recovery of full powers, 
i. 128 : the artist complete, i. 133 ; 
engaged for Stockholm, i. 143; false 
report of Parisian dehiit, i. 147; 
purpose of journey accomplished, 
i. 152 ; return home, i. 155; criticism 
on first appearance, i. 157; inessa 
di voce, i. 157; change of guardian- 
ship and provision for parents, i. 160 ; 
sings at Copenhagen, i. 170-172 ; 
universal opinion, i. 172, 173; letter 
on Armida, i. 178; negotiations for 
Berlin, i. 181; Dresden, 1. 185; re- 
called to Stockholm, i. 191 ; offer of 
engagement and pension, i. 192 ; final 
decision, i. 193; at Berlin, i. Ib8; 
difficulties with Fraulein Tuczek, i. 
206-208 ; triumphant debut in Norma. 
i. 213-216 ; Viellai, i. 222 ; enormous 
demand for tickets, i. 230 ; the Bunu 
contract, i. 229, 247 ; conception of 
Euryuidhe, i. 239, et seq. ; fete day 
congratulations and counsel from 
Meyerbeer, i. 246 ; alarming attack, 
i. 250 ; Anf Wiedersehen, i. 251, 252 ; 
" unrest," i. 258 ; at Hamburg, i. 261 ; 
at home, i. 263 ; return to Germany, 
1. 268; appears before Queen Victoria 
at Bridil, i. 271 ; Frankfort, i. 274 ; 
personal appearance, i. 274 : voice, 
i. 275 ; at Darmstadt, i. 278 ; at 
Copenhagen, i. 283, 284 ; Buun con- 
tract continued, i. 290, 291 ; an 
unfortunate letter,!. 291,292; time 
of engagement at Her Majesty's 
Theatre, i. 207 ; retuin to Berlin, 
!. 299 ; Leipzig, i. 324 ; Die Vestaliu 
at Berlin, i. 336; Picllstab's critiques, 
(see PvEllstab) : at AVeimar, i. 347- 
849 ; All/ 'Wiederseheii, i. 360 ; 
Norwegian Echo Song, i. 360 ; LoAver 



Rhine Festival, i. 3G1 ; Leipzig, 
i. 374 ; word portrait of, by Mme. 
Birc-h-1'feiffer, 379, 380; debut At 
Vienna, i. 384 ; correspondence with 
Mendelssohn, i. 388; with Mme. 
Wifhmann, i. 394, 395 ; charity con- 
eert, i. 405 ; at Aix-la Chapelle, i. 
413 ; at Hanover, i. 417 ; at Ham- 
bnrg, 1. 418; annoying pamphlets, i. 
4:^01 rest, i. 4-25; Frankfort, i. 420; 
"Annotation Book," 427; good faith 
with Mr. Bunn, i. 428; refusal of 
Mr. Lumley's offers, i. 429 ; fear of 
:Mr. Bunu,i. 429 ; increase of English 
inHuence, i. 429 ; concert at Darm- 
stadt, i. 432; decision for English 
venture, i. 438; vol. ii. 0; rouge, 
ii. (] ; Luniley contract, ii. 7 ; 
concerts particuUers, ii. 12, 13 ; 
Vlelha, ii. 32 ; self-distru.5t, ii. 33 ; 
tirst performance of Vitlha, ii. 34 ; 
appointed Austrian Kammersdngerin, 
ii. 35 ; terror of English law, ii. 41 ; 
last song at Vienna, ii. 48; on the 
way to England, ii. tJO ; at Mrs. 
Grote's, ii. 61: in No. 48 on the 
(Irand Tier, ii. 62; recognised by 
the public, ii. 63 ; nervousness, ii. 
63, 64; a private hearing, ii. 64; 
perseverance and punctuality, ii. <)5 ; 
Roberto il Diavalo, ii. 68-73 : the 
Terzetto in Act V., ii. (i9, 70 ; basis 
of dramatic success, ii. 70 ; London 
Press on her debut, ii. 73-78 ; un- 
moved by adulation, ii. 83; letters 
to Frau Von Jaeger and others, ii. 
83, 84 ; impressions of London, 
ii. 86, 87 ; her large heart, ii. 88 ; 
La Sonnambida, ii. 94 ; thoroughness, 
ii. 96; La Figlia, ii. 102; portrait 
as "Maria," ii. Ill; "Priestess of 
Nature," ii. 112; vocalisation in 
Norma, ii. 114; opposing criticisms, 
ii. 113-122; La Tempesta, ii. 126; 
critiques upon J Masnadieri, ii. 135- 
140 ; Susanna, ii. 142, 144 ; opposing 
qualities illustrated in I Masnadieri 
and Figaro, ii. 143 ; admii-atinn of 
Mozart," ii. 144; Mozartian tradition, 
ii. 146-147; the unaccompanied 
morceau,ii. 149; among the British 
Eoyalties, ii. 152, 153; Swedish 
songs, ii. 152, 153; operatic 
triumphs reviewed, ii. 154; how our 
national heart was won, ii. 155 ; 
country life, ii. 156, 157 ; at Mr. 
Lumley's fete, ii. 157: evening at 
home, ii. 157, 158 ; love for 

holidays, ii. 158; annmaly, ii. 158 ;ou 
tour, ii. 159 ; 3[rs. (^rote's account, 
ii. 160 ; evervwliero success- 
ful, ii. 161 : invitation to Bishop's 
palace, Norwich, ii. 162 ; appearance 
at St. Andrew's Hall, ii. 163 ; 
Swedish melodies at, ii. 163; birds, 
ii. 1()3; "A gift from (fod," ii. 164; 
melancholy expression, ii. 1(J4 : 
compass of voice, ii. 165 : critique on 
voice and genius, ii. 1(!5 : Swedish 
songs at Norwicli, ii. 1(57 ; A. P. 
Stanley on voice, character, ap- 
pearance, ii. 172. 173 ; smile, ii. 
168, 172,312: last weeks in Emr- 
land, ii. 175; departure, ii. 175: 
airival and reception in Berlin, ii. 
1S4; La SonnaiuhKla, ii. lS.i-lS7; 
appointed Prussian Kammersiingcriii, 
ii. 189, 190 ; concerts, ii. 382 ; primary 
bequest to Sweden indicated, ii. 192, 
193 ; religious convictions, ii. 193 
194 ; at Stockholm Academies, ii. 
192. 195: in Stockliohn, ii. 196; full 
power and glory of voice, ii. 196; 
farewell, ii. 197; portrait of, as 
Norma, ii. 198 ; the Bunn verdict, 
ii. 198-200, igrief for the death of 
Mendelssohn, ii. 202 ; the fund, 
for the Theatre School, ii. 203; 
engagement to Herr (liinther, ii. 
2IJ4 ; broken oil', ii. ;!40 ; departure 
from Sweden, ii. 205 ; arrival iu 
London, second season, ii. 207 ; re- 
appearance at the Ojjera, ii. 210, 211 ; 
Lucia, ii. 211-215; unrivalled as 
composer of Cadenze, ii. 220 ; close 
of second season in London, ii. 223 ; 
Brompton Hospital, ii. 224 ; pro- 
gramme, ii. 228 ; as musical direct- 
ress, ii. 229; antipathy to testi- 
monials, ii. 230 ; the Brompton salver, 
ii. 231 ; farther benevolent aspira- 
tions, ii. 23(; ; on tour iu England, 
ii. 236; at, ii. 239: the 
^Mendelssohn Foundation, ii. 241 tt 
seq. ; voice, ii. 243 ; at rehearsals of 
Elijah, ii. 245 ; a splendid perform- 
ance, ii. 245 : jironunciatiou ot 
English, ii. 246; at IMatichester, ii. 
251 ; at Birmingham, ii. 253; Yule- 
Tide, ii. 254 ; " h-U werde singen," 
ii. 255 ; Southern Hospital, Liverpod, 
ii. 256 ; at Norwicli, ii. 256 ; pro- 
gramme, ii. 256 ; list of charity con- 
certs in nine weeks, ii. 263 ; incident 
on tour, ii. 265 ; renunciation of 
Stage, ii. 267 ; dramatic instinct, ii. 



269, 270; culminatino: glory, ii. 
'2,11-llZ ; liberality, ii. 274 ; classical 
concert, ii. 278-282 ; a fatal mistake, 
ii. 282 ; re-appearance in Oiiera, 
ii. 283; glorious reception, ii. 
284, 285; the last liirewell to the 
Stage, ii. 287-290 ; benevolent plans, 
ii. 290 ; performances in England, 
1848 and 1849, ii. 291-293; The 
Method, ii. 294 ; quality of voice and 
vocal technique, ii. 294, 29G ; the basis 
of the voice, ii 296-297 ; voice not 
naturally flexible, ii. 297 ; indomit- 
able perseverance, ii. 297 ; the shake, 
ii. 297-299 ; exercise for the shake, 
ii. 298, 299 ; management of the 
breath, ii. 299 ; articulation, ii. 300 ; 
summary of eleven years' work, ii. 
304, 305 ; demeanour, ii. 317 ; on the 
death of Bishop Stanley, ii. 318 ; 
recoil, ii. 324, 329 ; death of Men- 
delssohn, ii. 336 ; engagement to 
Captain Harris, ii. 340, 341 ; retire- 
ment from the Stage, ii. 343; in- 
fluence of the Stanley family, ii. 
343 ; Mr. Nassau Senior's advice, ii. 
344, 345 ; the settlements, ii. 345 ; 
new diificulties, ii. 346 ; engagement 
broken oil", ii. 346; Paris, ii. 347; 
the cholera, ii. 349 ; at Cologne, a 
crisis, ii. 349 ; shattered nerves, ii. 
351, 352 ; " Eather bread and water," 
ii. .351 ; beautiful goal, ii. 352 ; the 
grape cure, ii. 355 ; America fore- 
shadowed, ii. 355 ; Mendelssohn's 
songs and Mr. Goldschmidt, ii. 357 ; 
an English letter, ii. 361 ; American 
contract signed, ii. 364 ; fulfilled, 
369, 370 ; destination of fund, ii. 
370 ; personal influence, ii. 379 ; at 
Berlin, ii. 382 ; dramatic power, ii. 
385, 386 ; the secret charm, ii. 387 ; 
happy days, ii. 391 ; the inner life, 
ii. 396; in Stockholm, ii. 399; the 
Swedish medal committee, ii. 401 ; 
description of medal, ii. 403 ; de- 
parture, ii. 405 ; an autograph, ii. 
405 ; at Liverpool, ii. 407 ; letters 
to parents, ii. 412, 418. 

Lind, Niclas Jonas, Herr, i. 11 ; easy 
temperament of, i 160. 

Lindblad, Adolf Fredrik, Herr, Opera 
by, i. 51 ; residence, i. 65, 159 ; letter 
from, i. 143 ; a famous song-writer, 1. 
8; .sougs 424. 

Lindskog, Mdlle. Apollonia, i. 64, 188. 

Liverpool, Jenny Liiid at, ii. 256, 407 ; 
departure from, ii. 412. 

Liverpool, the late Lord, on Jenny 
Lind, i. 271. 

Lona, Tante {See Lindskog), i. 188. 

London, Jenny Lind's arrival in, ii. 61 ; 

Lowenhielm, Count Gustave, Swedish 
Minister at Paris, i. 105. 

Lower Rhine Musical Festival, i. 

LiJBECK, ii. 300 ; American contract 
signed at, ii. 366 ; Christmas at, ii. 
373 ; detained at, ii. 379. 

Ludwig I , of Bavaria; household of, 
ii. 5. 

Lumley, Mr., hisagents,i. 274 ; contract, 
i. 426, 437 ; not idle, 432 ; Jenny 
Lind's opinion of, ii. 4 ; anxiety 
respecting contract, ii. 5, 41 ; sends 
libretto to Mendelssohn, ii. 30; his 
promise, ii. 29, 31 ; anxiety regarding 
Her Majesty's Tlieatre, ii. 49 ; power- 
ful hands of, ii, 54 ; journey to 
Vienna, ii, 59 ; success, ii, 65, 68 ; 
saved from ruin, ii. 90 ; eager for 
new Opera, ii. 125 ; letter to Men- 
delssohn on scheme of La Tempesta, 
ii. 127, 128; on the same to Scribe, 
ii. 129, 130 ; cast, ii. 131 ; withdrawal 
of Mendelssohn, ii. 131 ; Verdi's 
Masnadieri, ii. 137 ; on Jenny Lind 
in Figaro, ii. 147 ; his villa near 
Putney, ii. 157 ; second engagement 
with .Jenny Lind, ii. 176 ; upon 
Adina, ii. 218 ; his satisfaction witii 
result of second season ; ii. 223 ; 
liberality of, ii, 226 ; anxiety of, ii. 
276 ; brings Jenny Lind to England, 
ii. 335. 

Lund, University of, ii. 370, 393. 

Lundberg, Mile., i. 17. 


Maestko di Canto, The, i. 112. 

Magnus, Professor Ed., i. 336 ; portrait 
of Jenny Lind, i. 362, 363 ; destina- 
tion of replica, i. 363. 

Malibran, Madame, i. 108, 195; Mr. 
Bunn upon, i. 294 ; knowledge of 
English, i. 294. 

Malvern hills, ii. 370; Jenny Lind's 
last notes, ii. 392. 

Manchester, Jenny Lind at, ii. 251. 

Mannheim, ii. 20. 

Marie, Queen of Hanover, i. 417. 

Mario, Siguor, 'ii, 54 ; secedes from 
Her Majesty's Theatre, ii. 55, 



Marlborough House, Jenny Lind at, ii. 

Masxadieri, I, ii. 133 et seq. ; critiques 
upon, ii. 140; a succes d'estime, ii. 

]\Iasteby, i. 183. 

Maximilian of Bavaria, Prince, ii. 15. 

Mfi^oif 5* rovroov rj ayaTrr], i. 315. 

Blefbye, the artist, i. 173, 2S5. 

Mendelssohn, i. 5, 7, 201 ; at Berlin, i. 
323; his speech at Leipzig, i. 332, 
333 ; letters to Jenny Lind and 
others, 1. 359, 381, 388, 391, 401, 413, 
414, 422, 429, 433 ; ii. 7, 29, 42, 88 ; 
domestic happiness of, i. 372, 373 ; 
concert at the Gewandbaas. i. 374 ; 
as accompanist, i. 375 ; forebodings, 
i. 376 ; letters to Herr Franz Hauser, 
i. 381, 413; upon Elijah, i. 403; 
St. Faul originally produced at 
Diisseldorf, i. 407 ; letter to Madame 
Fanny Hensel, i. 414; Elijah still 
imfinished, i. 416, 423 ; letters to 
Jenny Lind, i. 423, 429 ; on the 
Lumley contract, 1. 433-435 ; vol. ii. 
7, 8, 9, 29-31, 42-44; "the best 
lirst performance," i. 435, ii, 248 ; 
projected Opera for Jenny Lind, ii. 
9 ; libretto from Lumley, ii. 30 ; 
explanation respecting letter on 
Lumley contract, ii. 42 ; invited to 
Ijondon (10th visit), ii. 61 ; receives 
Jenny Lind, with Mrs. Grote, on 
arrival in London, ii. 61 ; proiiosed 
Opera for Her Majesty's Tlieatre, ii. 
1 24 ; difficulties about libretto, ii. 
126 ; dissatisfied with Scribe's treat- 
ment of The Tempest, ii. 151 ; project 
abandoned, ii. 132 ; Loreley, ii. 132 ; 
enjoyed holiday, ii. 158 ; death of 
Mendelssohn, ii. 201, 202 ; Elijah— 
the period of its composition, ii. 242, 
243 ; a fitting memorial, ii. 244 ; 
jMendelssohn in London, ii. 248, 249 ; 
the Mendelssohn Scholarships, ii. 248, 
352 ; his Eheinisches Volkslied, ii. 
375; admiration of Schumann, ii. 

Mendelssohn, Madame, i. 359 ; letter 
frum Jenny Lind, ii. 352 ; greetings 
to, ii. 423. 

Meran, Jenny Lind on, ii. 320 ; a grape 
cure at, ii. 355. 

" Method, The," ii. 294. 

Meyerbeer, i. 5, 54 ; hears Jenny Lind, 
i. 144 ; letter from, i. 145 ; in search 
of a tenor, i. 148; at Berlin, i. 180 ; 
brings Jenny Lind to Berlin, i. 198 ; 

" enchanted," i. 221 ; influence all- 
powerful at Berlin, i. 378 ; object of 
Jenny Lind's letter to, in re Vienna, 
ii. 4 ; comforts Jenny Lind after 
Viella, ii. 34 ; in Paris, ii. 348 ; his 
new Opera, ii. 351 ; his La GraiuV- 
mere, ii. 385, 386. 

Mill, J. S., ii. 309. 

^[ilmau. Dean, ii. 309. 

Montagnana, ii. 56. 

Montez, Lola, ii. 5. 

Mozart, i. 302 ; his Recitativo seceo, i. 
303 ; his interpretation of the char- 
acter of Donna Anna, i. 305 ; irre- 
concilable with Hofimann's theory; 
ib ; a Freemason, i. 382 ; Jenny 
Lind's admiration of, ii. 144. 

Midler, the Chancellor at Weimar, i. 

MuxicH, IX, ii. 3. 

Munich a success, ii. 5 ; " a splendid 
place," ii. 17. 

Munthe, Carl, i. 162. 

Munthe, Herr Henric M., i. 161, 164 ; 
Jenny Lind to, i. 197 ; forbids 
London, i. 248; letter to, i. 258; 
in Paris, ii. 349 ; on the Rhine, ii. 
350 ; letter from Jenny Lind to, ii. 

Music, Royal College of, at South 
Kensington (School of Song), i. 29 ; 
ii. 303, 432. (See also Appendix of 

Musical Festival, the Lower Rhine, i. 
407; of 1846, i. 410. 

Musical Extracts, II Barbiere di 
Seriglia ; La Sonnambida, &c. See 
Appendix of Music. 


Nature Poet, the, and Jenny Lind, i. 

346, 347. 
Neruda, Wilhelmina (Lady Halle'), ii. 

New Opera House, The, i. 202. 
New Triujiphs at Beklix, ii. 181. 
New York, a day in, ii. 427. 
Nicolai, Herr, ii. 37 
Nieustadten, near Altona, i. 299, 372 ; 

Jenny Lind's second visit to, i. 418. 
" Nightingale, the Swedish," ii. 80, 81 ; 

Jenny Lind's, ii. 157. 
Nissen, Mile. Henrietta, i. 121 ; her 

prospect of high reputation, i. 123. 
Niilting, Mr. C. A., ii. 368. 
Noil mi dir, i. 326. 
Nordheim, the escort to, ii. 375, 376. 



Xorwesjian Echo Ponj;-, i. iJGO, ii. 296. 

(See Appendix of 3Iusic)- 
Norioegisches Scliaferlied, i. 3G0. 
Norwich, ii. 162; catliedral. ii. 167; 

reception continued, ii. 170 ; at, ii. 

Novello, Miss Clara, ii. 270. 
NozzE Di Figaro, Le, ii. Ii2. 
Nuremberg, Jenny Lmd at, ii. 21. 

CEdipns hi. Colonux, i. :>02; ]\[endels- 
solin superintends production nt', i. 
CEhleuschlager, i. 173; poem in 

Jenny Lind's album, i. 285. 
Oldenburg, Jenny Lind at, ii. 370. 
Operas : — 

Anna Bolena, i. 59. 

Armida, Gluck's, i. 67. 

Chateau de Montenero, Le, Dalavrac's, 

ii. 305. 
Divert iKseme id Xatioual (IJerwald's), 

ii. 305. 
Don Giovanni, II (Bon Juan), at 
Berlin, i. 302; at Hamburg, i. 418. 
Elixir d'amore, L\ ii. 217 H xi-q. 
Elves, The (Van Boom), ii. 305. 
Euryanthe, i. 57 ; at Berlin, i. 237. 
Feldlager in Schlesien, Das, i. 188, 
205, 209 ; in Berlin, i. 223-224 ; 
demonstration accompanying, i. 
226 ; at Vienna, ii. 3. 
Ferdinand Cortez, ii. 305. 
Figlia del lieggimento, La, i. 264 et 
seq.; at Hamburg, i. 418 ; at Vienna, 
ii. 25 ; at Berbn, ii. 102 ; plot, ii. 
103; remarks on Jenny Lind's 
"Marie " (ideal conception), ii. 106; 
vocalisation, ii. 107 ; dramatic 
import, ii. 108 ; love scene, ii. 108 ; 
singing lesson, ii. 110; linale of 
Acts I. and II., vol. ii. 108, 110. 
Flaido Maifiro, II (Die Zauherflote), 

i. 57; ii."278. 
Freischiltz, Der, Weber's, i. 55, 116, 
261 ; at Berlin, i. 310 ; at Vienna, 
i. 397. 
Frondorerna, by Liudblad, i. 51. 
Gazza Ladra, La, i. 159. 
Huguenots, Les, i. 159, 352 ; Vienna 
version, Die Ghibellinen in Pisa, i. 
Jaggdr i Kloster (Berwald), ii. 305. 
Lucia di Lammermoor, i. 264 ; at 
Hamburg, i. 418 ; first time in 
England, ii. 211. 

Marie (He'rold's), ii. 305. 
Masnadieri, I, ii. I'M ct seq. 
May Day in ^V(irend, A, i. 165. 
Norma, i. 59, 156 ; at Stockholm, i. 
192; at Berlin, i. 211. 212,215; 
at Vienna, i. 384; in Ijoudon, ii. 
113 ; at Stockliolm, ii. 197. 
Nozze di Figaro, Le, i 159, ii. 142 ; 

the Recitative in, ii. 149, 150. 
Vuriiani, I, ii. 219; "Times" cri- 
tique upon, ii. 221. 
Ikoherto il Diarolo, i. 54, 58, (i^>, 6(! ; 

ii. 286. 
Srhireizer Fainilie,lJie, i. 57; ii. 305. 
Semiramide, ii. 305. 
iSvnnambula, La, at Stockholm, in 
192; at Hamburg, i. 418; in 
Tjondon, ii. 94 ; second season in 
London, ii. 209. 
Straniera, La, ii. 305. 
Tochter des Regiments, Die, i. 102, 260 ; 

at Vienna, ii. 25. 
Tnreo in Italia, II, i. 181, 187, 264. 
Vestale, La, Spontini's, i. 58. 
Zaidw.rflote, Die, i. 57. 
Ojiera Houses : — 
Berlin, i. 198, 299. 
Coveut Garden, ii. 55. 
Dresden, i. 188. 
Italian, in London, ii. 17. 
Munich, ii. 17. 
Of tin^ Nobility, Tjincoln's-inu-fielus, 

ii. bQ. 
Paris, i. 136. 
Stockholm, i. 141. 
Vienna, i. 384. 
Operatic Parts : — 
Agathe, i. 311-313. 
Alice, i. 54, o^, G^j ; ii. 65. ; Jenny 

I^ind's account of. ii. 84, 85. 
Amina at Stockholm, first time, i. 

Anna, Donna, Don Juan, i. (j(i ; 

licllstab's criticism on, i. 306. 
Armida i. 178, 192. 
Euryanthe, i. (J(i, 238. 
Julia, in the Vestale, i. 66, 336; ii. 

Lucia di Lanunermoor, i. iJQ, 100. 
Marie (Herold's), i. m. 
Marie in La Figlia, i. 281 ; its life 

and soul, ii. 140. 
Niobe, Pacini's, i. 191. 
Norma, i. 100; at Stockholm, i. 159; 
last performance at Berlin, i. 251 ; 
Hamburg, i. 280. 
Pamina, i. iJ6. 
Semiramide, i. 159. 



Susanna iu Figaro, ii. 142. 
Valentine in the Huguenots, i. 352. 
Opera Stall' iu Les Huguenots, i. 353. 
Opera, the first Italian, ii. 2G8. 
Oratorio, the first true, ii. 268. 
Oratorios : — 

Creation, Aix-la-Chapelle, Munich, 
Vienna. Hamburg, ii. 357; London, 
ii. 265, 271. 
Elijah, ii. 211, 264. 
Messiah, epic form of, ii. 269 ; first 
time, ii. 407, 409; important 
apiJearance at Halle, ii. 431. 
Orleans, Square d', Paris, i. 109. 
Osborne, ii. 152. 

Oscar I., coronation of,i. 191 ; request 
to Jenny Lind, ii. 358. 

Paris, Jenny Lind in, i. 105 ; street 
cries, i. 112; Italian Opera, i. 136, 

139 ; the second phase ended, i. 152 ; 
visit to in 1849. ii. 348. 
Pasta, i. 195 ; Norma written for, i. 211 ; 

as "Amina," ii. 100. 
Perman, Fru, i. 14. 
Persiani, Mme., her style, i. 120 ; Jenny 

Lind's opinion of, i. 124 ; in revolt, i. 

432 ; celebrity of, ii. 53 ; secedes from 

Her Majesty's Theatre, ii. 55. 
Persiani, Signor, ii. 55. 
Phillips, Dr. Georg, ii. 15. 
Piatti, ii. 431. 
Pilgrimage, i. 92. 
Pillet, Leon, Mons., Director, Grand 

Ope'ra, Paris, i. 145; criticised, i. 

148 ; his defence, i. 148. 
Plays : — 

Adele de Senanges, i. 52. 

American Monkey, TJie, i. 55. 

Angela Malipieri, i. 53. 

Bride of the Capital, Tlie, i. 52. 

Bride of the Tomb, The, i. 53. 

Death of Wallenstein, The, i. 53. 

Fausse Agnes, La, i. 47. 

Fisherman, The, i. 53. 

Foster-Son, Tlie, i. 48. 

Jealous Wife, The, i. 52. 

Jenny Mortimer, i. 52. 

Johanna de Montfaucon, i. 46. 

Ludicrous Encounter, The, i. 52. 

Marie de Sivry, i. 53. 

New Blueheard, The, i. 51. 

New Garrison, The, or Seven Girls in 
Uniform, i. 48, 51. 

Pasha of Surenne, The, i. 46. 
Polish Mine, The, i. 41. 

Sentinel, The, i. 53. 

Sons of King Edward, The, i. 55. 

Students of Smdland, The, i. 46. 

Testamenttt, i. 42, et seq. 

Thirty Years of a Ganibler^s Life, i. 

Unknown Son, The, i. 51. 

Zoe, i. 52. 

(To this list must be added certain 

ephemeral Plays, or fragments of 

Plays — to the number of about a 

dozen — not mentioned in the text.) 
Pokorny, Herr Franz, i. 275, 382: 

in despair, i. 383; Jenny Lind's 

opinion of, ii. 4. 
Polska, The, ii. 210. 
Porpora, Niccolo, i. 115; his Arianna, 

ii. 56. 
Potter, Cipriani, Mr., ii. 298. 
Pougin, Arthur, i. 147. 
Prince Consort, His Koyal Highness, 

the late, i. 268 ; at Her Majesty's 
'Iheatre on Jenny Lind's first 

appearance, ii. 68 ; at Her Majesty's 
Theatre, Norma, ii. 113; at Marl- 
borough House, ii. 152. 
Progress, i. 369. 
Provinces, in the, ii. 156. 
Prussia, Princess of (the Empress 

Augusta), i. 197. 
Puget, Mademoiselle du, i. 119 ; 

amusing peculiarity of, i. 120. 
Puke, Count, i. 18. 
PURITANI, I, ii. 217. 
Pusey's, Dr., smile, ii. 312. 


Queen's State Visit to the Opera, 

The, ii. 113. 
Quintette, the traditional, ii. 54. 
Qvarnstrom, C. G., ii. 403. 


Eachel, Jenny Lind on, i. 125; ii. 

Kadberg, Captain, i. 12. 
Eandel, Leader, Royal Orchestra, 

Stockholm, i. 62, 168. 
Eduber, Die, ii. 134 ; plot of, ii. 141. 
Redern, Graf von, i. 336 ; message to, 

ii. 423. 
Reeves, Mr. Sims, ii. 431. 
Reinecke, Carl, Capellmeister, ii. 406. 
Beinecke Fuchs, Kaulbach's edition, n. 

Rellstab,HerrL.,i. 205; his critiques, 

2 H 



i. 21 S, 223, 240, 244, 253. 254, 255, 
306, 311, 339, 353, 364; ii. 185 ; upon i 
Jenny Lind's " Julia," i. 339-342 ; 
truth of, i. 344 ; on "Valentine" at 
Berlin, i. 353; the style of his 
critiques, i. 356 ; Gesammelte Sclirif- 
ien von, i. 356 ; Jenny Lind's Berlin 
benefit, i. 364-366 ; account of Art 
work at Berlin, i. 366, 367; and Mo- 
zartian tradition, ii. 146 ; on the 
Berlin reception, ii. 185-7 ; farewell, 
ii. 188 ; his protest ao:ainst Jenny 
Lind's retirement, ii. 333, 334 ; his 
tribute to Jenny Lind in Berlin, ii. 

Ee'nmsat. ii. 227, 229. 

Return, The, i. 141. 

Return to Berlin, The, i. 299. 

Return to Vienna, The, ii. 23. 

Reyer, Madame, 1. 196. 

Rhine, the, i. 408. 

Ridderstolpe, Baroness, i. 216. 

Rienzi, Wagner's, i. 189. 

Rochlitz, ii. 146. 

RoUet, Hermann, poem on Jenny Lind 
and H. C. Andersen, i. 348. 

Romani, Chev. Felice, ii. 128. 

Rose, Sir Philip, ii. 227. 

Rossi, Coutessa de', 1. 128. 

Rubini, i. 131 ; celebrity of, ii. 63; 
capacity of chest, ii. 299. 

Rufliaques family, the, i. 107, 119. 


Sachs, Hans, ii. 21. 

Sacred Harmonic Society, ii. 61, 245. 

Sainton, M., on tour with Mr. and 

Mme. Goldsclimidt, ii. 431. 
Saphir, Herr, ii. 28. 
Sassenay, Marquis and Marquise de, 

i. 409. 
Scarlatti, ii. 268. 

Schechner, Nanette, i. 311 ; ii. 146. 
Schiller, Die Rduher, ii. 133 ; imitation 

of, ii. 138. 
Schlangenbad, ii. 349, 406. 
Scholarships : — 
" Geijer," at Upsala University, ii. 

"Jenny Lind," at the Stockholm 
Academies, ii. 192, 195 ; Ap- 
pendix II. 
" Mendelssohn," in London, ii. 248, 

"Bishop Tegner," at Lund Univer- 
sity, ii. 370. 
SchoU, Court Sec, i. 347. 

Schroeder, Herr Schoeltz von, i. 279. 
Schumann, Mme. Clara, i. 375 ; ii. 26; 

her attectiou for Jenny Lind, ii. 39 ; 

introduced to the Wichmanns, ii. 

334 ; at Hamburg, ii. 388. 389 ; her 

estimation of Jenny Lind, ii. 389; 

concert with Madame Goldschmidt, 

ii. 431. 
Schumann, Dr. Robert, ii. 26 ; intro- 
duced to the Wichmanns, ii. 334 ; 

his music at Hamburg, ii. 389 ; his 

genius, ii. 392. 
Schwabe, Mme. Sails, letter to, ii. 253, 

254 ; ii. 318 ; letters to, ii. 355, 397. 
Schwabes, the, ii. 253, 255 ; with Jenny 

Lind at Liverpool, ii. 407. 
Schwerin, Baroness, i. 127. 
Schwerin, Court Tlieatre at, i. 262. 
Scribe, M., ii. 129. 
Senesino, ii. 56. 
Senior, Nassau, Mr., Jenny Lind's 

remarks to, ii. 70; advises Jenny 

Lind, ii. 344 ; his private record, 

ii. 347. 
Shadow, The, ii. 39. 
Singing, the Art of, i. 107. 
Skytteholm, i. 85. 
Smart, Sir G., and Handelian tradition, 

ii. 146. 
Smith, Mr. Albert, ii. 82. 
Smith, The Rev. Sydney, ii. 309. 
SoNNAMBULA, The, ii. 92. 
Sontag, Mme., i. 195 ; in Halevy's La 

Tempesta, ii. 132 ; her gift of song, 

ii. 165 ; compared with Jenny Lind, 

ii. 383. 
Sophie, the Archduchess, ii. 28. 
Soult, Mme. la Mare'chale, 1. 108 ; ii. 

South Germany, ii. 14. 
Spencer, Lord, Lord Chamberlain, ii. 

Spohr's Crucifixion, ii. 167. 
Spontini at Berlin, i. 310. 
Stage, The, and the Drama, ii. 263. 
St. Clara at Stockholm, i. 11 ; singing 

at, ii. 404. 
Stanley, Dean, i, 72 ; letter from, ii. 

170 ; enthusiasm for Jenny Lind, 

ii. 311. 
Stanley, Bishop, invitation to Jenny 

Lind, ii. 162 ; watchful care of Jenny 

Lind, ii. 311. 313; the Bishop's 

present of a Bible, ii. 315, 316 ; death 

of, ii. 317. 
Stanley, Mrs., letter to Mrs. Hare on 

Jenny Lind's visit, ii. 162 ; on Jenny 

Lind's second visit, ii. 258-260 ; on 



La Sonnamhula, ii. 2G1 ; her motherly 
devotiou to Jenny Lincl, ii. 311-313, 

Staudigl, Hen-, i. 384, 397 ; at Drury 
Lane. ii. 66 ; as " Bertram " at Her 
Majesty's Theatre, ii. 70 ; in Figaro, 
ii. 147." 

Stedingk, Friiken Marie von, i. 166 ; 
diary of, i. 166; on Fiorella, i. 181, 
182 ; on II Turco, i. 187 ; not present 
at the performances, i. 191 ; on Jenny 
Lind's return to Sweden, i. 263 ; on 
the farewell soiree at Queen 
Desideria's, i. 267 ; her welcome to 
Jenny Lind, ii. 400. 

Stockholm, Home for Widows of 
Burghers, i. 14, 16; soire'e at, i. 76 ; 
Jenny Lind again at, i. 99 ; ii. 196, 

Stockholm, Theatre Eoyal, i. 18, 23, 
157 ; directors of the, i. 24. 

Stoeckl-Heinefetter, Mme., i. 386; ii. 
6hV 146. 

Stolz, Mme., i. 149. 

Stolzenfels, Schloss, i. 267, 269. 

Strada, Signora, ii. 56. 

Stromberg. Fru, i. 64, 98. 

Student, The, i. 119. 

Stupidity, Mendelssohn on, i. 403. 

Stuttgard. ii. 16. 

Style, i. 120, 124. 

Sullivan, Sir Arthur, ii. 249. 

Sunset, the, ii. 438. 

Supremacy, ii. 51. 

Suspense, ii. 61. 

Sweden, bequest to, ii. 192, 193, 195, 
370, 403. 

Swedish songs at Buckingham Palace, 
ii. 152; at Osborne, ii. 153; at Nor- 
wich, ii. 163, 167 ; in America, 421- 
424. (See also Appendix of Music). 

Swedish medal committee, ii. 401. 

Swift, Mr., the Tenor, on tour with Mr. 
and Mme. Goldschmidt, ii. 431. 


Taglioni, M. Paul, i. 181. 
Tamburini, ii. 53 ; riot, the, ii. 54 ; 

secedes from Her Majesty's Theatre, 

ii. 55. 
Tanzlied aus Dalelcarlien, i. 330. 
Tasmania, the Bishop of, ii. 164 ; letters 

to Jenny Lind, ii. 173, 314. 
Tattoo, the Prussian, i. 268. 
Taubert, Herr, i. 336 ; conducts, i. 359 ; 

at Vienna, i. 396, 397; messenger 

from King Frederick William to 

Jenny Lind, ii. 357; his bird-song 

greetings to, ii. 423. 
Teguer, Bishop, ii. 393 ; Scholarships, 

ii. 370. 
Tempesta, La, ii. 124. 
Tengmark, Fru, i. 14. 
Thalberg, Herr, on Lucia, ii. 216 ; in 

London society, ii. 309. 
Thalia, poem by Forsberg, ii. 433. 
Thoniander, Johan, Professor, i. 87. 
Thompson, Mrs. Seth, ii. 10; daughter 

of Mr. W. Horsley, ii. 88; letter 

from Mendelssohn to, ii. 88-90. 
Tichatschek, Herr, i. 397 ; in Eoberto 

il Diavolo, ii. 66. 
Tieck, L., the poet, Jenuv Lind in- 
vited to, i. 225. 
Topelius, poet, i. 167. 
Trefi'z, Demoiselle Heuriette, i. 384. 
Triumph, ii. 67. 
Tro ei gladjen, song by Josephsou, i. 

"Tradition, Mozartian," ii., 145, 146; 

Handelian, in England, ii. 146. 
Tuczek, Frauleiii, i. 205 ; opening 

night, Vielka, i. 220 ; in La Figlia 

del Reggimento, i. 250. 
Turkish Refugee Fund, ii. 431. 


Ueber alles bleibst du theuer, i. 326. 
Under -which King, i. 134. 
Upsaia, Jenny Lind at, i. 59 ; Univer- 
sity of, ii. 370. 


Vatel, Mous., Director of the The'dtre 

Italien at Paris, i. 149. 
Verdi, early works of, ii. 133. 

I Masnadieri, ii. 138. 
Vestalin, Die, i. 335. 
Viardot, Mme., i. 108. 
" Vielka," the part of, i. 209 ; written for 

Jenny Lind, i. 220; in Vienna, ii. 

Vienna, Jenny Lind at, i. 371 ; the 

debut at, i. 378; Jenny Lind's love 

for, ii. 87 ; enthusiasm of, ii. 334. 
Vivanot, Dr., i. 378 ; death of Mme. ii. 

Volkslieder, Swedish, i. 330. 
" Volumes, the Green," i. 393 ; ii. 12, 

13, 125. 




Wanderings at Ease, ii. 348. 
Weber, Carl Maria von, died, i. 237. 
Weigall, Lady Kose, memorandum by, 

i. 199-200. 
Weimar, at, i. 345 ; Andersen at, i. 

Weiss, on tour with Mr. and Mme. 

Goldschmidt, ii. 431. 
Wellington, the Duke of, considerate 

conduct of, ii. 92. 
West, Capt., steamship " Atlantic, n. 


Westerstrand, P. (Intendant), i. 27. 

Westmorland, Earl of, i. 197 ; interest 
in Art, i. 231 ; and the Bunn con- 
tract, i. 233. 

Wichmann, Herrmann, Vergissmem- 
nicht, i. 254; sells Jenny Lind's 
portrait by IMagnus, i. 363. 

Wichmann, Herr Otto, sketch of room 
in Professor Wichmann's house, i. 

301. . „„ .. 

Wichmann, Herr Rudolph, i. 41o ; u. 

333. ,. , ^ ., 

Wichmann, Mme. Amalia, nee b eilner, 
i 299 ; her salon, i. 336 ; letters to, 

1. 299, 349, 373, 394, 395, 421, 424, 

426 ; ii. 6, 19, 39, 40, 181, 182, 183, 

191, 217, 237, 332, 422. 
Wichmann, Professor Ludwig Wil- 

helm, i. 200 ; medallion portrait of 

Jenny Lind, i. 362. 
Wichmanns, the beloved house of the, 

i. 320; ii. 358; not consulted on 

American plans, ii. 366 ; at the, ii. 

381 ; parting with, ii. 422. 
Wien, Theater an der, i. 275, 382 ; ii. 

26, 28 ; Vielka at the, ii. 32. 
Willis, Parker, i. 73 ; notes on Jenny 

Lind, i. 83 ; ii. 426 ; a word portrait, 

ii. 429. 
With the Danes, i. 278. 
Words, Last, ii. 430. 
Work and Friends, ii. 1. 
Wurtemburg, King of, concert, ii. 16. 
Wynds Point, Malvern Hills, il. 443. 


Zandt, iMUe. van, ii. 96. 
Zauherflote, Die, i. 382. 
Zerr, Frilulein Anna, i. 386. 

London: printed by william clowes and sons, limited, stamfokd street 
and charing cross. 

Bellini's Opera BEATRICE DI TENDA N9 6 Cavatina(3 Cadenze.) 
Cadenze b and o were by Madame Goldsehmidt's permission included 
in the late Mr. H. C. Deacon's Article onSinging" in Grove's Diction- 
ary of Music. They are given here again together with Cadenza (a) in 
a form shewing the bars in which she introduced them at many Con- 

Lento assai. 




BEATRICeP^^' ^^^ fedelil 




Largo sostenuto. 





iS^ iS ^a la 




^ Cadenza (a_ 

-nor ' ' 

O mte 


^_ ii^:^ 



^' ^ 'Trr -A M^ 




Allegro moderato. 

. t 5 

mio ros - sor! 

10 ^ r^ BEATRICE 

S * 

Symphony t— J— *— i 




Ah! la 

Pill Allegro. 
Coro 18 




pe-nain lor piom -bo 
Cadenza (r) ^ 


tr fr r> 




/ y^ rail, pn sempre p 

/T\ a tempo 

Stretto assai. 
2\ 19 14 



Ah! la pe-nain lor plom-bo 

Syrc phony 

Bellini's "/ PURITANI" Act II. Seena N9 7. Andante: Elvira "Qui la 

Madame Goldsehmidt, more particularly in later years, when sin^in^ 
the Andante onIy_ without the Allegro which follows_ repeated the 
17 bars at the end of this movement, substituting the second time in- 
stead of Bellini's bars 15 and 16 (in the voice part) the following two. 


i^w, - i h- h I J 





Qui la voce 

can farza 

(15)^-.--^- 3 ^ (16) ^^ -- — V 

spe me o las - ciate, las-ci-a- 

te mi mo - rir 


N9 3. 

Donizetti's 'LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR" N915. Cavatina (Paris. Pub- 
lished by Edmond Mayaud) Larghetto% in G. 'Perche non Ao"bar33, 

' cresc. ... a/. 

+) Introduced in drove's Dictionary of Music and Musicians Vol. III. 
page 508, also in the Musical Union Record, 1849. 

* 3 

N9 4. 

This Cadonza was sent to Ferdinand Hiller as a contribution to the 
well-known collection of Autographs which he left to the town of 

The inscription accompanying th(? Music is as follows "Herrn 
Doctor Ferdinand von Hiller zur freundlichen Erinnerung ronj^enny 
Lind-Goldsc/midt.-^^^^^^ ^r^^.^f,^^ iS84V 




Ih *r.nVri^far? ^.H^n:^ 



Mozart's "Z?/£ ZAUBERFLOTE" Act U. NO 18. Aria. Pamina. 


J' J) f 1) 




1 I V 

■9 f 

Ach ich fiihl's, es ist ver 

Ah! lo so, pill non ma 







^^ii) \ ^''Y^^ 


schwunden, e -wig Grab, den Weg in's Grab, den Weg_ 

-van-za che lag - narmi pe-nar, il mio pe - nar, il mi - 



_ in's Grab. 
o pe - nar. 

^) The Composer himself has placed this pause and indicated a Cadenza. 

N9 6. 

Mozart's Opera in two Acts '/Z. RE PASTOR E' composed in 1775 
(words by Metastasio) N9 10. Aria (with Violin obbligato.) 

Tho following two Cadence were composed in thn autumn of 1854 
by Madame Goldschmidt in collaboration with Herr Fr. Schubert (at 
the time First Concertmeister of the Royal Orchestra at Dresden.) 
Madame Groldschmidt accompanied by Herr Schubert and subsequent- 
ly by other Distinguished Violinists, sang the Aria with the addi- 
tion of these Cademt, at many Public Concerts, and also at Musical 
Festivals in Germanyj they have not hitherto been published with 






f legato 

pa - ce - io tro - ve 

ro Ah_ 






Violin obbligato 





^) Mozart has here indicated a Cadenza. 

^ / T 

Violin obbligato 




p cresc. e uccel. 





a tempo 

t t 


sempre f . 


1r w r\ 


^' ? ^'T f I i f ^ 





•f) Mozart has here indicated a Cadenza. 


N9 7. 

The following Cadenza forms the ending of the RECUEIL DE 
MAZOURKAS de F. Chopin" ■aot to Italian words for (Soprano) Voice 
-with Pianoforte obbligato(.by Otto Goldschmidt) and sung by Madame 
Gold«chmidt,from the year ISoo, at her Concerts in Germany, Holland, 
and Great Britain. 

The Mazourkas introduced are four, viz.- Op. 50, N9 2. in A flat, 
Op. 30, N9 1. C minor,and X? 2. B minor,and lastly Op. 24, N9 3. 
of which Madame Goldschmidt sang the concluding strain, expanded 
on Chopin's own lines, as given on the ne.xt page in its entirety. 

This "Recueil" has not been published. 

Moscheles, having heard this piece, in Xovember 1857, at the Ge- 
wandhaus at Leipzig, entered in his Diary the strain in bar 10, go- 
ing up to the high C, differently, He wrote from recollection only; 
but in this form it has found a place not only in his Biography (Vol. 
II, London 1873) but also in Grove's Dictionary of Music Vol. II, 
page 141, and possibly elsewhere. Chopin's melody, however, had not 
been altered, and Madame Goldschmidt sang it as written by the Composer 

Moderato con anima. (Mazurka NP 3, Op. 24^ 

-J l| :^- l^flT-^^ . J)J'f P 

Mio po -ver cor, las - cia il do - lor 
-man fe-del al tu - a a - raor 

di-vin pia- cei 



•cer d'amor 

O speranza vien ahviendalciel, 

r'lii \M ^ I!,, ij 'I J I 

fi-do a-n3o - re mai non pe-ri - ra, fi-doa-mo-re 


^ n^\ \ - ,JlLz ,I^^J)1 7 ^ 


w ^n ^ 


■f . 

mai non pe - ri 

ra,' no, no, no, no, no, no,. 


un poco lento 


rail. r^ ^^JlP"" 

f * ^ # ff 


^11^^ r\ m^' Bspress 



Ri - man fe-del al 

pi^ j^^-^ 



tuo a - mor, al dolce 


f i - do a - mo - re 







.X. 4 .g . W: , i 




/77J - nu - en 






« — * 

1 ■•• 

!!)'L! ''i b r- =? 



tranquil I a 

^ — 4-' y ^-^=^ 


ah ma - - i. 


Pianof . 



#: ,fii 



NO 8. 

Deux Cadences d'Etude. 

LkW .J 

Ful - 

h « ^ a O 




un f^ocn lull. 



NO 9. 

Bellini's 'LA SOXNAMBULA' Aria 'Ah non cn-dea" from the Finale 
of tho last Act as sun^ by Mademoisell*' Lind on the Sta^e and subse- 
quently at h<ir Concerts by Madame Goldschmidt. 

Andante can fab He. 

f - 

^ hj'My^^'\ ?^ 

^ — ./-J- ' ^ 


ff "> * -^ Ah! nnn rrn 


Ah! non cre-dea mi 

-rar - - ti Si pres - to e -stin - to, o 

f f f ip f 



^' 1 re J^ T 



re, Pas - sa - sti al pnr d'a - 

li!lff^!!7^ ^'^ W;' ;■■ p r p •> 

- mo 

re Cheun gior - no so - lo, cheun 

#T^i-cxrrijir"r^; p rjp 

gior - no sol du - - ro, 

che un gior- no 


i f f ^ ' 



SO - lo ah 

sol du - ro. 



^V I f P 

Pas - sa-stial par da -mo 

^ J ^ r r-yf-r^ 





t ^rfff^, ^ 


^ s^ 


gior- no, cheun gior-no sol. 



malta espressivo 

^isJ^lij'^^ ^ 

#= "~y"~ » 

Po - tria no - veL 


p- ^ F r P p 

II pian-to mio re 


- ti, 

Ma rav - vi - var I'a 



^'^fngg fr-^^tf^^^ ^^^fe^gg^ 


re il plan 

- to 


yyffi [ n ^ ^ ^ 



ah no, no non piu ah non ere - de 

3 . L' 

§ P f^ p- f r^M n r ^ ^ '' ^^ 

a ah non ere -de- -a, Pa-sa-stial par, al par d'a 

J I i I I I p i '4^' f r t 

-mo - - re cheun eior - no sol du - 

• m z ai -^ ^ — *■ 

U p Lf-p 

• BBa«7?\X Lento. 

ro, che un gior-no sol du - ro, 

gior - 



rs -^ 

- no 



* ^j , .y (r¥ 

' ^ ^ F 






The embellishments of Cadenza in this piece wer6 sun^ in moderate 
time, not quickly. 


NO W. 

The following Version of Eosina's Aria'Twrt voce poco fa" from 

B.o%%ix\i\ 0^(^T3,'IL BARBTERE DI SiVIGLIAl' is that sung by 
Madame Goldschmidt. 

The Air, having been originally written for a Contralto (in the 
key of E) must be transposed to a higher key, if sung by a Soprano; 
and in addition to this, various passages of low range have been 
traditionally altered, to suit the higher voice. 

Madame Goldschmidt sang the Aria in the form given below (and 
in the key of F) at her Concerts, and taught it to the few select 
pupils who came under her care. 

No indications of traditional changes of Tempo or marks of expres- 
sion- save those introduced by Madame Goldschmidt_ have been in- 
serted here, as they are found in every good edition of the piece. 

Andante. , 

= !F=^ 



^f m^ 







U-na vo - ce po-co 

qui nel cor 

il mio 


ro mi 

o sa-ra, lo ^lu 



-ra-i, la vin 

am^ W^ih 



par! and o 

' '^"'- parianao i. . 



II tu-tor ri-cu-se - ro, lo I'in-gegnoaguzze- 

^j })tt~j~h ^ i I r •' p' p ^^.^ ^ 

-ro, Al-la fin sac-che-te - ra, e con-ten-taio res-te 


i & i rrj^e r^m '^^ 

■ rb, Si Lin - do - - ro mio_ sa- 

-ra-i la vin 

W f ini 


Allegro. 12 


^^ S^Tf^ 

^ ■ ^ • * ^ 

Symphony Jq ^q- 

- no 

■ do - ci -le. 


son_ ri - spet - to - 

sa, So - no ob - be 


del - ce, a - mo - ro - - sa, Mi la-scio 

B ^ 1) 1) l\- r^^y> J: J'.^ 

reg-ge-re, mi la-scio reg-ge-re, mi fo gui 

•dar, mi fo 

gui - dar, Ma se mi 



toe- -ca-no dov'eil mio de - - bo -le, come u - na 




* ' * d i n. 




ra sa - ro, 

E cen-to 

f mr%]nl I u^' ^^r-^^^ m 

trap- -po-le pri-ma di ce - - de-re, fa-ro gio 

- car. 

car, e cen-to 

P^ ,iu-:-[ n'l i T i' ' !' P 

trap - po - le pri - ma di ce - de - re, fa - ro gio - 


-car fa- - ro gio - -ca-re, e_ cen-to. 


i>^ ^- iiJ-' J-' 

r yp ^' ^'^ p 

trap-po-le pri - ma_ di 



ce - de- re, e cen- to 


J) ^JLf f> h 

trap-po - -le fa- - ro, fa - - ro gio 

Viol. _ - 1 ^^ ■ ^'^°^ 




^P PP l ^^-J'J ; 

lo so-no do-ci-le. 

^■^ J M C I ^' i 

p P P KO'^»^ppp I P'pp^-'PPP 


so-no obbediente mi lascio regge-re mi fo giu- 

a tempo 


- re Ma se mi 

i^u jiLi^' ^ i cipf;rU-ii^ 

toe - ca - no dov' il mio de - bo - le come u - na 

•^fr'rfr'T'^ I't^J •'p p p ' 

- pe - ra_ 

sa - ro,. 

e cen-to 


trap - po - le, pri-ma di ce - de - re, fa-ro gio 


Cil - 

- re, e cen-to 

can abandon 

I can aoiinaon i 

\ \ )' d 

trap- po-le, pri - ma di ce - de - re fa - ro gio - 




car,_ fa - ro gio 

ca-re, e cen-to 





trap -po-le pri 

ma di ce-de-re, e cen-to 


trap-po - - le fa 




^,i- [- ^ ^ p p ^i^ 

£— B D 



— (9 — 

e cen-to trap - po - le fa - ro gio- 



M' I P" g r ^-jLp— ^H 


e cen-to trap -po-le fa- ro gio 

^^:^;^^^ pq^r^.f .fgy^j ^ 


- car, fa ro gio - car, fa - ro gio 



-car, fa - 

ro gio - car. 



Thisis the Version transcribed from the (late) Coartsinger LA. Bergs 
own.Mss. Musicbook, now in the possession of his son. 








Fjer-ran i skog 










-0 9 


PhJ ^\ ifM' ^^ 


Langt fran dig skiljd Kiar for min sjal Stra-Iar din bild 




a — 3 

*-:: — * 

j = 3i: 

#-il|l^ ' 

•# — ^ 


# — m- 

C = E 

■» — w 




f^j) i f n j 


Hor - net min kla-gantill dig nu_ 














tf" " N' I f r i' " i -M ^ 

/rs Corno. 



for Ger-na! Ger-na for dig jag dor. 












13 = 


This is the Version sunp; in Public by Madame Goldschmidt both in 
Europe and in America, and in Private up to a late period of her life. 



Composed by 



Andante lento, dales 






Fjer-ran i skog Langt fran dig: 

Ear in the uoods Parted from 





-d *- 

» w 







Klar for min sjal 
Thine i - miit;e fair 

Stra - lar din 
Still dwells with 





!'^ l J It 




M n n 


Hor - net min kla - gan 

So let the horn breathe my 












till - dig for Ger-na, ack! ger-na for dig jag 

sr - cret to thee; Death for my lovehathno ter-ror for 














g "^f 








/O pii/ sanare 




Hor - net min kla - - gan 
So let the horn breathe my 



'ir fM^JLLi^ p 


till - dig for 
se - cret to thee: 

Ger- na, ack! gerna, ger- - na 

Death for my love hath no 








for dig dor. 

ter - ror for me._ 
calla race 














The following Xorwegian Popular melody has been referred to more 
than once in the preceding Volume?- and in one instance by M4il§Lind 
herself, in a letter dated Boston November H. 1850. (See Book IX, 
Ch. V.) in which she calls it the Norwegian FjalKFelDSong. 

The version given here is as nearly what she sang, as a wild original 
piece of National Music, subject to many variations in detail at the 
humour of the Singer, (who invariably accompanied it herself on the 
Pianoforte) can be put on paper. 

The unaccompanied Coda at the close, introducing an Echo, was add- 
ed by the Songstress, and has, it is thought, not hitherto been printed. 

The Norwegian words only are here inserted, bat a translation of the 
simple sense of the words will be found at the end of the Song. 


fn^j.p^^[^ ' ir:rrd' i r^^^tggj% 


.sonore c in Tempo moderato 







rail. Kom kjyra.komkjyrami.'Komkjyra,, Hoah.hoah. 

ten. V/'ro e quasi parlando 

-y- — * — \^ • ^- * 

hoah, hoah, trr ho, hn! Kom ka,komkaIv, komkjy-ra, Kom 
A A 

^M Jj.p^^' l U^pJ^'^'J' J p i 

al-le di und-li-a dy - ral A sme-en kom from me 








ham-mer a tang, Sat-te de merkje pa stu -te-horn de 

l^ ^ I 





r. A P'^ sonore ^ — ; ^'/^^f- rf /^7>^ ^i 

val-tp den Skalkuli bergaman! Hoah, hoah, hoah! Kom al 

i ■ ^ 











'' L.:p.rfJH- 



^^1 'I I^J;;^7l ^^ 

- le kjy - ra mi- 

a stakkarl 



^gjj- f ^ ^ 


Mode rata 


















So-lengar bak a sen nen Skyggjenbli sa langje, 


i' ''jf' n''"rri^ 


p lyj'^ * 

nat-te kjemsnart at - te -ve, teck-je meg i fan-ge. 










i' J ''M J J. I J I 'M 


Krytrein u-ti kvien star. 




eg te sae-ter-sta-li gar! 




1 i i i 










Kritrein u-ti kvi-en star - - eg te sae - ter-stu-li garl 




s" } i i 




[<!^ --^ I J J 











MoUo Allegro 

i \ &i,}\ lit 











Tempo I. , 


!M-^T^Mr'r-int^r p|^ j_^ 


) ^^ 8 

Kom kjy -ra. kom kjvra mi kom kjy-ra!_ 

r. : J ^^ 













"^ 23 

Hoah. hoah, hoah, hoah 
\ \ \ \ 


ho, ho. Ah 

, , rarcel.r Mod^rato. 

t, Pf t^ P^ tp P^ Jp P^ . ^ / h. I "^ 


ivi i ir ii ii i ir ii ii;:' i ||Lj'1 M„i 


ad lib. ^^ 

Ah_ Ah. 



— ax" 




At this point Madame Goldschmidt turned from the Pianoforte towards 
the andience, facing it, and singing straight towards the length of the 
Room (having in view the production of the Echo) until the final notes, 
when she slowly turned back towards the Pianoforte, and struck the 
Chord of D to the same note in the voice part. 

Come hither, come hither, come hither! 

Hoah, hoah, hoah! 
Come cow. come calf and weanling brood 
Come all my cattle dear'. 
And the smith come forth 
With hammer and tongs 
To put the brand on the animal 
For so will hare it the Sheriff done. 

Hoah, hoah, hoahl 
Come all ye my poor dear'. 

The sun is selting^ behind the hills 
And shadows are lengthning-; 
The night will soon close in 
And hold us in its lap. 

The pot is on the fire 

And to the Alp f 7t'end my way. 


Holland, %nry Scott 

111 nil Ml 
3 9097 00548776 5 

MAR X 7 -^ 

J-/ u